It's Always Sunny In Kirkwall
by Dumbpanda
Summary: Tons of MGiT have saved Thedas from villains and disaster and she's no different. Except this story's villain is her own creation: the psychopath that is Aldrin Hawke. Torn from her own world she's sent to stop him and right his wrongs, or is there a greater purpose to her existence here? She's got a mysterious tattoo on her back and a strange ability to predict the future.
1. Hello World

I already hated today.

I hadn't even woken up yet, but I could just tell it was going to be one hell of a day. For one thing, I hurt. My whole body was aching and sore like I had just survived going through a wash cycle. My limbs were like lead and I didn't have the energy to even try to move them. The worst of it though was my head which throbbed dully at my temples. I hadn't felt this bad since I had woken up from the massive hangover I had at Burning Man. But that was three years ago, and I definitely hadn't done anything last night to warrant my body's current state of ache.

All I had done last night was gone to bed, How I Met Your Mother playing softly off my laptop as I cuddled a giant body pillow; which must have fallen off the bed last night, along with the mattress because it certainly didn't feel like I was sleeping on one any longer. In fact, I felt like I was sleeping on a bed of rocks.

But at least they were warm rocks.

I knew comfort was definitely out of my reach, however I still refused to open my eyes. If it was going to be a terrible day I at least had the choice of putting it off for as long as possible. I didn't have work until late today so there was no rush to get up.

But then came the wind.

It wasn't a nice breeze either as if I had just left the window open. It was a hot gust. The kind that kicked up dirt and gravel and angrily threw it into any opening your clothes provided. Or down your throat since I slept like a mouth breather. I woke up coughing, sputtering out dirt and reluctantly opening my eyes to a terrible day.

Except….

"The fuck?"

A bed of rocks was exactly what I was laying on. All blackened stone, mountainous, and terrifying. I was definitely no longer in my room or possibly even in my home country anymore..

It's a dream. Just a dream. A really real feeling dream, but a dream.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself. Dreams had felt real before, but lucid dreaming was always a possibility for me once I had realized that I was dreaming. I closed my eyes now willing for the pain to go away.

I had no luck.

Perhaps it was sleep paralysis then. I had never experienced it before so I wasn't sure, but I wasn't sure on how else to explain my situation either.

The dream or visions rather, looked real and I had no control over it. I couldn't seem to make myself wake up either. I was trapped like this for now. I couldn't remember too much of what I had read about sleep paralysis but I figured I would naturally wake up eventually.

The dull throb at my temples pulsed insistently. Maybe I could find hallucinate up some version of Advil.

I sat up and then instantly wondered how I managed to do that. I would have sworn part of sleep paralysis was that you couldn't move, thence the paralysis part, but I guess I was just remembering it incorrectly.

Now that I was sitting up I could get a better look at my surroundings. It seemed I was on a mountain for I could see the small tops of trees beneath me though they were mostly covered in a thick grey smoke. The red line of the horizon signaled the source and there was a heavy stillness in the air. As if doom had settled here and was calling in his apocalyptic riders.

Figures.

Levering myself up against the mountainside I looked at my options. I could either sit here and watch the world literally burn or since I had the privilege of movement I could try to find a safer spot. Maybe a happier vision.

The fire and brimstone feel was on par with my usual line of thinking, but just because I usually had morbid thoughts didn't mean I wanted to visually see them come true.

I was about to move down the path when I heard approaching voices. Panicked I crouched behind a rock before they could see me.

"I think that's all of them," said a man's voice.

"For the moment," followed a women's.

"Maker save me, we've lost it all. Everything your father and I built," wailed a second.

"We should have run sooner, why did we wait so long!" Came the first woman's voice again.

"Why are you looking at me? I've been running since Ostagar," the man argued.

"Shut it both of you. Save your breath for moving," the voice of a second man cut in as the party moved into sight.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched them pass by my hiding spot and then suddenly coming to, I tumbled out onto the path behind them. "HAWKE!"

They turned at my shout, the younger man drawing his blade and placing himself between me and his companions. "Who are you?" He challenged.

I took them all in. The all too familiar faces I had seen countless times in my computer screen. Except they were different now. More real and defined.

The man brandishing the sword looked a lot more like his twin, the younger female, than I had imagined. Their mother's hair was more brown than gray, only the roots showing signs of her age. In truth though, my focus was mainly on the tallest member amongst them. Even with the added realism to his features he was easily recognizable to me.

He had sharp angled bones and a stern mouth, half covered by an impeccably groomed moustache and short beard. His short black hair showed the same level of care, meticulously spiked to give his easy 6ft frame just a bit more height. An old scar ran diagonally across his left eye and cheek. But it was the eyes that gave it all away for me; bright blue and cold as death.

Of all the Hawke's I could have hallucinated, it had to be this one.

"Well answer," the younger man prompted forcibly.

His twin put a gentle hand on his shoulder, eyeing me with some sympathy. "Maker's breath, lower your blade Carver. Can't you see she's scared?"

The eldest was eying me suspiciously, no doubt wondering how I knew the name of his family without being recognizable to him. He moved past his younger siblings fluidly and came to stand before me, his face an impassive mask. "I do not recall meeting before. How do you know us?"

"Um," I gulped, not confident on how to answer that.

The truth was, I knew them from a game. Dragon Age 2 to be exact. His brother Carver, sister Bethany, and mother Leandra I had met countless times in dozens of playthroughs, but the eldest Hawke changed each time for me. A new face and personality to roleplay until I used up all the possible combos of class and gender.

This Hawke had been a special sort of playthrough. One I had good cause to never repeat.

As such, I wanted to be very careful in what I said and did around him.

"I knew of you from Lothering. I had just moved there shortly before all this begun," I gestured towards the burning landscape, "so we never had a chance to be introduced, but the town knew your family well."

Luckily, lying came easy for me.

His eyes narrowed further in response. "I see. Then we both flee the darkspawn. You may come if you can keep up." He paused, looking at me expectantly and I could instantly tell he was anticipating an introduction from myself.

"Uh, I'm Marian. Marian Shepard."

It was the first name that had put itself together in my head. I had thought briefly of giving my real one, but decided against it. For one, what did it matter? This was a dream I would eventually wake up from and then two, it would be much easier to keep my lies straight if I knew I was telling Marian Shepard's story and not my own.

"Pleasure," Hawke responded flatly.

A few moments later I found myself on the run with the infamous Hawke family. Bethany keeping pace beside. We had not been moving long before she spoke, "Where did you come from before Lothering? You have a unique style of dress."

I glanced down suddenly realizing how out of my place my clothes did probably look. I was wearing brown suede boots, olive green leggings and a fringed black poncho over a white tank.

"Oh, Orlais. Je vais d'Orlais." Again, I spoke the first thing that came to mind. It did seem like a country that would be open to stranger tastes of fashion though.

"I would never have expected! You don't have an accent at all," Bethany smiled.

"I'm in Fereldan. One hardly wants to have an Orleasian accent here," I replied chuckling.

"Very true, what brought you to Lothering?"

An intriguing trailer for Dragon Age Origins and a Grey Warden destined for tragedy, I thought; but I said instead. "A good feeling. Though you can see how that panned out."

She smiled again.

For a dream or bout of sleep paralysis my mind was doing an incredible job of creating genuine reactions. I had thought to spot something out of place, some abnormality or disconnect that would prove I was still sleeping, but so far nothing had slipped. It all seemed incredibly… real.

Which was a horrifying thought. As much as I had daydreamed about being a modern girl in Thedas, meeting the characters, and fighting in battles, it was the actual impossibility of it that made the daydream enjoyable.

The thought that I might be here for real though? Absolutely terrifying.

I knew no one here and no skills to survive on my own which meant I was completely dependent on the Hawke's taking me under their wing (to put it one way). I didn't know how long I was going to be dreaming, or if it was even a dream at this point and not me stuck in a coma, but I didn't want to test any theories with my death. Especially on the chance that if my mind thought me dead then my body would follow suit back in my world. No, better to act as if this was all real for the time being, until I had a stronger impression on what was happening.

"Mother," Bethany's voice cut through my reverie. Her voice was full of concern. I turned to see the older woman was lagging behind, breathing haggardly. She would not be able to keep this pace up much longer.

She waved her daughter off, but it did nothing to deter the young mage from stopping the group. "Wait! Where are we going?"

"Away from the Darkspawn," Carver said, turning to face his twin. "Where else?"

"And then where? We can't just wander aimlessly," Bethany countered.

"You can go to Kirkwall," I interjected to everyone's surprise.

Carver looked like he was about to speak, before his mother suddenly agreed with me, mentioning that they had family and an estate there. I felt Hawke's gaze on me again and did my best to ignore it.

It did not take long before the group reached a decision to take a ship from Gwarn.

"If we survive that long, I'll just be happy to get out of here," Carver said. The final one to speak as we started moving again.

I looked at Bethany. If events synced up to the game, then Carver had little to worry about until we reached Kirkwall. His twin however, was in danger of never even reaching the city. Perhaps, I could change that.

Altering events with lucid dreaming was obviously not an option, but maybe I could use my foreknowledge to save Bethany's life. I would have to be careful though. The future is never set in stone so even if I acted to prevent her death the way it happened in the game, there was no certainty that it would not take her life in a different way or Carver's.

Even so, I might not hate today after all.


	2. Mountain Path Dangers

We had traveled a good ways along the path before we encountered our first darkspawn, though I did not recognize them as such right away.

I thought they were creatures straight out of my deepest nightmare. Humanoid in shape with ill-fitting armor, they were muscular and disfigured, covered in blood and black sludge. They moved jerkily, as if listening to a thousand instructions at once and made to move together, but it was clear to see that they were built to hunt.

"Darkspawn," Hawke clarified as he fluidly reached around for his staff. His brother was already crouched into a fighting stance, Bethany's hands white around her weapon. "Don't let their blood get into you."

The boys looked calm, which was no surprise. Hawke rarely showed emotion and Carver had already been exposed to Darkspawn at Ostagar. However, it was the first time that Bethany, Leandra, and myself were seeing the creatures in person and we each wore an expression of horror to reflect that.

The Darkspawn did not speak our language, communicating in snarls, hisses and other nonverbal sounds, occasionally shrieking or howling. Neither did they seem to feel pain or fear, for they would continue to advance until the last of their number lay dead.

The fight did not last long.

Afterwards, we picked our way carefully through the pools of black blood, Hawke leaning down to occasionally check a corpse and then we were past the scene. Our pace was hurried once again.

As we moved forward it suddenly occurred to me who we would be encountering next and I soon found myself at the front of the group, leading them forward at a near running pace. If we moved fast enough I thought to save another life. One I had not expected to.

Hawke did not tolerate my leadership for long, however and slowed the group's pace. I waited ahead, antsy for them to catch up. It would do me no good to find Aveline and Wesley by myself. I didn't know how much further away they were and if any more groups of Darkspawn waited in between.

Carver was the first to reach me. "What's the rush all of a sudden?"

"Just a feeling," I pursed my lips, looking away. "A really strong gut instinct that we could make a difference up ahead if we just hurried."

Hawke dropped his pace to a walk.

Damn my mind for making such a disagreeable character.

Then I heard a shout. Carver apparently heard it too for his head swiveled in the direction of the sound.

"See! Did you hear that?" I hissed. "We have to hurry! We can help them."

Carver and I turned the bend together and immediately saw the two figures engaged in combat with a group of Hurlocks. With a shout of aid, Carver loosened his broadsword and rushed forward. I hung back, eyes roving over the two familiar fighters, checking to see if either had been injured. The red-headed woman fought with spite and fury and her armored husband wielded his weapons unhindered. I released my breath, happy to see that injury had been avoided.

Heat rushed past me and I turned to see Hawke and Bethany there. I ducked as Hawke sent another fireball whizzing past and did not stand up again until they advanced past me.

Admittedly, it was getting harder to fear Darkspawn the more I saw the Hawke siblings battle. Carver's two-handed weapon was swung with an almost nonchalant ease and seemed to cut through flesh like butter. Bethany was stiffer in her movements, but her casts were powerful and precise. Their elder brother was easily the most proficient fighter amongst them though. He wielded his magic and weapon with practiced grace, conscious of every movement made and carefully avoiding using any unnecessary energy.

The battle ended quickly, like before.

"Apostates, keep your distance!" Spat the armored man after the last Hurlock fell.

Bethany made a noise, looking aside at her brother. "Well the Maker has a sense of humor. Darkspawn, and now a templar. I thought they had all abandoned Lothering."

The Templar strode towards her, "The spawn are clear in their intent, but a mage is always unknown. The order dictates..."

A graceful step put Hawke in between the templar and Bethany. He did not need words to indicate his intentions.

"Wesley," the red-headed woman implored, grabbing the Templar's arm. Her eyes met his with an unspoken request.

"Those two are apostates. The order dictates…"

She shook her head. "Dear, they saved us. The Maker understands." The man held her gaze a bit longer before finally dropping his shoulders in surrender. The woman turned towards us. "I'm Aveline Vallen. This is my husband Ser Wesley. We can hate each other when we're safe from the horde."

Hawke did not take his eyes off Wesley. "Pleasure. I'm Aldrin Hawke and this is my family. You are welcome to join, so long as you know we stand together, Templar."

The glare was not returned, the Templar choosing to just sullenly nod in acknowledgement. His wife spoke for him. "Understood. For now, we move with you. North is cut off. We barely escaped the main body of the horde."

"Then we're trapped. The Wilds are to the south, that's not a way out," Carver whined. He moved closer to this mother.

Hawke looked to me.

I hesitated for only a second.

"Go south."

We trudged in silence along the winding path, allowing me another bout of heavy thinking. It had caught me a bit off guard that Aldrin Hawke had looked to me for guidance, but then again the Aldrin Hawke I had created and roleplayed was more perceptive than most. He was probably aware that I knew more than I was letting on.

I smiled to myself, aware of how frustrated that probably made him feel. He hated unsolved mysteries. They were like scabs waiting to be picked and due to our circumstances he didn't have time to get at me the way he wanted too. Suddenly I realized what he was doing, why he had looked to me for guidance out of the blue. He would use small moments like that to figure me out. A question here, a role change there, an action or comment by which to judge my reaction, all until he had unraveled enough thread to stitch my story together.

My thoughts were interrupted as my vision suddenly went dark.

em _It was all of us walking along the path, Carver in the lead. Bethany asks, "How much further?". Carver twists around to answer. "How can you be complaining already? Are you really that excite-" He's cut off, an arrow through his throat. He crumples and we spot the two archers on an outcropping ahead. Another five jump out on us. Ambush! Carver is bleeding, gurgling on blood, eyes wide and white…_ em

The vision clears and I see sunlight again.

"How much further?" Bethany's voice drifts up from the back of the group.

I look up in shock. I see Carver start to turn back to face her.

em _No!_ em

"Darkspawn!" I yell, pulling back on Carver's hand as he twists.

It throws him off balance and he falls. "What the-?"

An arrow quivers in the ground beside him and our group rises to action as darkspawn burst forth in ambush. Aveline charges forward, shield up and ready to deflect the next arrow loosed, Aldrin and Bethany already working on killing the archers. Carver is back up on his feet and joins Aveline in battle.

I retreat backwards from the fight, until I'm out of range from the archers and am standing by Leandra and Ser Wesley. Preoccupied by the battle, I barely heard the shifting rocks in time.

I spun at the noise and saw darkspawn approaching. One was far ahead of the pack and would reach us soon.

Pivoting, I turned towards Wesley. He had seen them too, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword, though he did not draw it. My heart fell when I looked down and saw the wound in his side, we had been too late after all and now he did not have the strength. The sword looked too heavy for me to wield as well, but there was a smaller dagger sheathed there. Without thinking further, I grabbed it from its holster and spun back towards the darkspawn.

The creature was upon us now and there was little time to react. I had never used a dagger in battle before and other than aiming the pointy end out had no idea what to do. The darkspawn leapt at us and I brought the dagger up hoping the beast would impale himself.

The creature's axe hit steel though. Ser Wesley having brought his shield about in time.

"Now attack," he grunted out with pain.

Darting my dagger around the shield I struck. Once! Twice! Thrice! My weapon pierced flesh. At the third one I knew the creature to be finished. Wesley's shield lowered, his strength exhausted. With a kick I sent the dying darkspawn backwards.

His friends were almost upon us though and without Wesley's help I was not sure how we were to survive them.

I felt the whisper of heat on my ear then and a giant ball of fire sent the oncoming enemy alight. A second one impacted moments later. Aveline was by our side now, sword drawn and shield up, but the darkspawn did not advance. Flesh burning, they crumpled until only their molten weapons even spoke of their existence.

"Is everyone alright?" Aveline fired off giving her husband a motherly once-over.

"We're fine dear. Nothing to worry about. I just hope we don't encounter anymore," Wesley replied brushing her off and trying to hide how bad his wound was starting to pain him. He redirected her focus to me. "You did pretty good for your first time. You seem to have good instinct on where to hit even if you don't know how to hold a blade."

"Err, thanks and sorry I just grabbed at it," I offered the dagger back to him, but he pushed it back.

"Keep it," he urged. "Until this ordeal is over there will be more times that call you to defend yourself. Come on, as we move I'll show you how to properly use it."

As we walked Wesley and Aveline demonstrated how to hold the blade and the areas I should strike at.

Overhearing the conversation, Carver dropped back to add his two cents to the matter. He showed me a few techniques he liked as well, the small blade looking awkward in his hands, before handing it back to me. "That should help you a bit. This isn't really my style so I don't have too much advice, but it's better than nothing. Which is where you're at." He paused, looking down at me. "Don't get in our way ok? Stay back and leave it to us."

I nodded and then realizing he was still looking at me muttered. "Thanks. I appreciate the help."

Unexpectedly, a bit of color rose to his cheeks.

He moved forward before I could ponder that reaction and my thoughts soon became preoccupied with another matter. I could see the flat line of a plateau down below. The time was upon us.


	3. The Ogre

We were on our descent from the mountain now and the plateau below looked familiar. I was almost positive that this is where we would encounter the ogre. Where fate would be decided.

I regarded Bethany. She would be at the greatest risk if this reality acted in accordance to the game's timeline, though I couldn't limit myself to that type of thinking. Where a death may be demanded, a death may be paid, which meant saving Bethany could mean losing another. I hoped to save them all though so I needed to come up with the best plan to do so.

We would face darkspawn first there, and then the ogre would appear from the path below. The creature would charge and end up near Leandra and whatever sibling stood near her. To save their mother from the ogre's next charge Bethany or Carver would sacrifice themselves.

Would moving Leandra be enough then? I could hurriedly clear her from the path before the ogre charged. Bethany and Carver were both capable fighters and without needing to act desperately in defense of their mother could probably survive.

It was the best plan of action I had come up with by the time we reached the plateau.

Darkspawn greeted us almost instantly and I found myself shoved to the back with Leandra and Wesley as the rest confronted the oncoming swarm. There was quite a number of them and I drew my dagger in preparation to help if needed to, but thankfully it looked as if I would not have to attempt fighting this time. I did however, want to learn how to defend myself eventually so I made sure to pay attention to the way my companions fought, hoping to pick up some tricks. I knew I would learn very little through observation alone, but it was at least a start.

Aveline was like a mountain turned battering ram. One moment invulnerable behind her shield, the next a furious power knocking foes aside. Stalwart, she alone seemed to be able to survive in the midst of the foe, using sword and shield with equal skill. Carver was also in the thick of melee, but his style was more wild. He swung the large two-handed he favored with unmonitored fury. However, for all the control he lacked, his twin Bethany seemed to possess. She seemed almost hesitant in battle, each spell she cast bottled up until its bursting point, but when she let it fly there was none more powerful. She was a powerhouse, just a slow one. The eldest Hawke sibling Aldrin, was easily the best fighter amongst them though. Graceful and assured in his movements, he seemed capable and aware of everything. Many times I would watch him face one way, but without looking freeze a blade behind him before whirling to shatter the frozen foe with his staff and then turn front again as if nothing had occurred.

The more battles I observed the more apparent the hive mind of the darkspawn became to me too and I soon realized they had very predictable actions. Instead of any strategic approach they would often rush us and then focus on the first defender they met, Aveline. From then on, they seemed to ignore the others allowing the mages to pick them off from behind and Carver to devastate them from the side. In truth, it seemed most of the power of the darkspawn came from their numbers, for they did not know defeat and would continue until the very last of them fell.

They had just finished off a wave of Darkspawn when we heard the thunder. I knew what was coming and my breath caught in my throat. This was my chance to make a difference and I still felt drastically unprepared for the moment.

The ogre charged up the path, making Aveline dodge it, before it skidded to a halt on the other side of the plateau and stood. It was easily eight feet tall and built like the Hulk, except it had grey flesh and what looked like an eternity of sharp teeth. .

Springing into action I hurriedly began pulling Leandra off the battlefield, feeling success with my efforts as Aveline shouted at it, catching the ogre's attention.

From that moment on, the ogre ignored Leandra and I. This was going to work. No one had to die here today.

With a roar the beast pounded its fists into the ground, cracking the earth, its muscles straining as it then lifted a piece of dirt and stone above its head. Ogre's were undoubtedly dumb, but it did move with a greater speed than I would have imagined possible. It chucked the boulder at Aveline and then charged after her rolling form. She was up in time to meet the swinging fist, hammering back with blows of her own, Carver rushing in to aid her. Bethany and Aldrin started casting with their staves, still recharging mana from the last battle. The ogre swung wildly, forcing Carver and Aveline to dodge like madmen. It turned suddenly, catching Aveline with a backhanded blow and sent her flying. The turn gave the mages an opening though and a blast from Bethany caught it in the eye.

It hissed and then ignoring the melee fighters in its anger, charged straight at Bethany. She rolled, but she wasn't fast enough and the creature caught her around the middle. It lifted her as she screamed, her arms pinned to her sides in its bone-crushing fist. Carver yelled as he came at the creature dodging just in time to miss a swipe that would have crushed his ribs. On his feet he rushed again, his sister still screaming as the beast squeezed ever tighter.

 _Crack._

The sound resounded across the battlefield.

Bethany's head lolled backwards.

It was quiet now.

Except in my head I was screaming. Time seemed to have frozen as I sank to my knees, digging my fingers into the earth as hot tears came sliding down my cheeks. I thought I had succeeded in saving her life. I should have seen that fate would find other ways. I should have known.

A second crack suddenly lit up the plateau and everything began to move again. I looked up to see the lightening streaming from Aldrin's staff hit the beast so forcefully the shock could be seen against the creature's grey skin and crackling over Bethany's limp form. Another yell from Carver as the boy dashed forward bringing his blade across the creature's back left heel. With a roar the ogre fell to its knees, its other hand stretching forward to catch itself. Aldrin was ready. His eyes cold as he rammed the bladed end of his staff into the beast's mouth. Two seconds later and the ogre lay dead, its insides molten by the fire Aldrin had forced down its throat.

With a soft thud, Bethany's body rolled out of the ogre's limp grip.

Leandra's grief was unbearable. She moved instantly to cradle the broken body of her only daughter, her pleading cries haunting me to this day. She threw her head back, all grief and anger as she begged the skies and blamed her sons. I stayed back as Caver and Aldrin joined her around their sister's body. I was out of earshot but I had a good idea of what transpired there. I know Leandra did not stand willingly and if it was not for her eldest tugging her away, she would never have left Bethany's side.

As it was, we did not leave in time and soon found ourselves surrounded and backed up against the wall by a full company of Darkspawn. There was no way out for all of us with this many spawn. I saw Aveline kneel down by her husband who was no longer able to stand. Carver stood strong before his mother and it was with surprise that Aldrin came to stand near me, his arm in front as if to guard my life with his. I bowed my head and prayed to whatever Maker there was that things would play out as they did in the game.

I don't know if anybody heard my prayers, but they were answered. There was a loud roar and I looked up to see her there.

"Flemeth!" I cried out, elated and relieved.

Large, red, and furious the dragon swooped down from overhead, raining fire and destruction about the company of darkspawn. The swarm was quickly decimated beneath her might and the added efforts of Aldrin and she soon emerged from a canopy of flame to appraise us.

She appeared old in her human form, but frighteningly beautiful. Familiar and strange in the way that most people of this world seemed to be, as they appeared so real looking compared to their video game renditions. Her golden eyes seemed the same though and as soon as her piercing gaze fell upon me I felt as if she knew me.

"So you are here," the Witch said looking thoughtful. And then more to herself than to me. "Early or just in time?"

"You know me. How did I get here? What is this place?" I latched onto her words, knowing they were tiny pieces to very large puzzle of how I came to exist in Thedas. She had expected my presence here, her words left no doubts on that, but what of me being here early or just in time? There were a thousand questions running through my head and I felt alight with emotions.

"My, my, aren't you an eager one" she laughed. "You try to fly when you have yet to even grow your feathers."

I stared at her with a feeling that I usually attributed to the 40-something-year old suburban moms that wanted to speak to my manager: I was flabbergasted. Here she was with all the answers I sought and yet she would dismiss that? Well, she could play games those games with someone else, but not me. I had secrets of hers.

I took a deep breath, ready to give her a piece of my mind, but before I spoke the cold voice of Hawke interrupted. "Do you two know each other? Have some secret you would like to let me in on? Perhaps where you learned to turn into a dragon?"

I had forgotten we weren't alone.

"Perhaps I am a dragon," Flemeth smiled, her gaze shifting to him. "If so, count yourself lucky. The smell of burning darkspawn does nothing for the appetite. If you wish to flee the darkspawn, you should know you are heading in the wrong direction, but your guide here should know that." She nodded in my direction.

Carver looked befuddled. "What do you mean?"

Flemeth tilted her head towards me, obviously indicating that I was meant to answer.

I looked at her confused, not certain what she meant me to reveal. That I knew what was happening because I was in the world of my favorite video game? That they were all characters I loved and knew? Did she even know that about herself?

Everyone's eyes were on me, awaiting my answer.

"The Darkspawn are everywhere or soon will be," I said, finally gathering my thoughts on what I would reveal. "There is no em _good_ em direction to run, but this way at least gave us the best chance to run into Flemeth and we needed to meet her."

"Why?"

It was a simple question from Aldrin, but I heard the hidden threat inside it. I turned to face him. "Because this is a Blight, no matter where we ran there would be more Darkspawn than we could get through on our own. She can help."

Flemeth smirked. "And what makes you think I will offer it?"

I glared back at her and answered with certainty. "We head to Kirkwall."

She looked pleased, though I suspected it was for deeper reasons than our destination. "Is it fate or chance? I can never decide. It appears fortune smiles on us both today. I may help you yet." She reached into a pouch, pulling out a golden amulet which she then presented to me. "You know where and to whom I believe."

I nodded.

"Good," she smiled. As I accepted the necklace she turned her attention to Hawke. "Hurtled into chaos, you fight and the world will shake before you. Keep her close. Her powers will only grow."

Hawke and I both stared at her in shock.

"Powers?"

"She cannot even hold a dagger. What powers are you referring to?"

Flemeth laughed again. "One would call her a seer. Let her vision guide you."

"No, no, no, I'm not a…" I stopped, unsure of what to say exactly. It was true, I did have some tiny ability of foresight if Hawke's life played out to script, but as I saw with poor Bethany it could be very unreliable or alterable. And then there had been the matter of the actual vision.

Also, I needed to consider what I was going to do when I got to Kirkwall. If I didn't prove that I had some use to them now they would have no reason to help me get into the city later. Aveline would be covered by them because she knew how to fight, but neither the mercenary or the smuggling band would want to pick me up too, nor could I trust this Hawke to take pity on me and keep me around.

Perhaps it would not be wise to so quickly dismiss what little power of foresight I did have.

"You saw it then? You could have stopped it?" Leandra was shrieking at me, her eyes wild. Carver quickly stepped to hold her back. "Bethany. Oh why did you let it take Bethany."

"I'm sorry, I thought I had saved her, but I didn't know that the ogre would…would catch her." It was a pitiable defense and I knew it. "I'm so sorry Leandra."

"That will change," Flemeth cut in. "Your powers will grow and you will learn to see the alterations there, but now is no longer the time to discuss that matter. We cannot stand here chatting like old woman any longer. If you wish a way out then now is the time. However, there is one more matter to attend to." Her eyes slid to Wesley.

"No, not him," Aveline stated.

"It cannot be avoided. His time is almost up. I am not the only one who knows this."

Aveline turned her glare to me."You knew."

I shot a nasty look at Flemeth for outing me on this as well. They already blamed Bethany's death on me so why not another one I guess.

"That he was a walking dead man?" I answered a little more harshly than I meant to in my frustration. I took a deep breath and started over. "Yes, I'm sorry Aveline. There was no way to warn you of it. It happened before we even met. The only cure for him would have been to undergo a Grey Warden joining ritual, but there are no Grey Wardens capable of performing that feat left in Fereldan. In fact, " I glanced at Flemeth for confirmation. "The _only_ Wardens even left in Fereldan are out of our reach now."

I saw the set in Aveline's jaw and knew she meant to argue with me, but Hawke walked over to her and knelt. I averted my eyes not needing to see what I knew would come.

A few moments later Aveline stood.

A widow by her own hand.


	4. To Kirkwall We Go

_It's been about two weeks on this ship. Two weeks and I'm still here._

I looked down at the railing I was gripping, absentmindedly running a thumb over the peeling red paint and weather worn wood. I was still enthralled by how real everything felt.

I could feel the breeze like a warm caress, feel each tendril of hair it gathered and blew across my cheek and neck. I could hear a flag flapping higher above, the gentle thumping the waves made against the hull, and the strain and creak of the ship. There were a few seagulls that soared above, their shadows casting patterns over the water below. The water was a ever changing, sometimes dark green and foreboding, othertimes playful as it caught the light of the sun and reflected it back.

I sighed heavily, ignoring the garbled conversations around me.

We had been on this ship for a while now and time above deck was precious. The ship was crowded with refugees fleeing Ferelden and for safety we were usually kept below deck, crowded together in the cargo space. The smell of unwashed bodies and waste was near unbearable at this point and so to avoid a riot the crew had recently allotted us an hour in the sunlight every day.

We had been on the ship for about two weeks now and by the crew's estimations we would be arriving in Kirkwall tomorrow morning. The excitement on that news had drastically improved everyone's morale.

Including mine.

The loss of Bethany and Wesley were still fresh in my mind. We had buried them quickly atop the mountain with only a few stones to mark their graves before we departed with Flemeth. Her promised aid had come in the form of a protection rune that rendered us invisible to Darkspawn. She had also provided us with detailed instructions on how to reach Gwarn and the safe places within the wilds we could stop to camp, gather food, or find water.

Our path was long and not easy as we traveled through the Brecillian forest and even with no danger of Darkspawn there were bears and wolves to trouble us there.

Reaching Gwarn was only partly a relief for me. The city was overcrowded with refugees and it was a hard fight to purchase the tickets we needed. I was terrified they would leave me behind at first as I had no money with which to buy my own passage and Leandra was still angry with me over Bethany, but when Aldrin returned he had a ticket for me as well. However, only Carver seemed truly pleased that I would be continuing to travel with them.

I didn't blame them.

I should have been able to save Bethany and I felt it right that Leandra held me accountable for her death.

That made it no less difficult to endure the consistent comments the woman made regarding it though, and by the second week in I snapped. "Stop acting like I wanted her to die! I'm not the damn maker, Leandra. I can't foresee every possibility, but I did prevent her death the way I saw it. She was going to die protecting _you_. That's why I was there beside you so if things went south, it would be me and not your daughter that took that blow. I'm as sorry as you are that it didn't work out that way."

Leandra looked taken aback by my outburst and though I could see her throat working to reply she turned her head aside instead.

In the following silence, Aveline moved to sit next to me. "...That was not well said."

"I know," I sighed, releasing the pent up frustration. "I don't blame her for hating me. I should have spoken up earlier, warned everyone about the dangers we were about to face."

"You have to stop taking Leandra so personally, she's mad at herself. She lost a daughter and it is not unexpected that she wishes for one of us to have died instead. But those kinds of thoughts are hard to think and they trouble her, so she is searching for a reason to feel that way. She tries to blame you even though she knows you did everything you could. We all do." Aveline retaliated as she leaned back. "You're a kind soul, Marian. Continue to show her that and she'll come around."

"Thank you Aveline," I replied, unable to come up with anything better. What she said made sense, but it certainly promised the trip to be no easier.

I followed her advice though and by this point Leandra had stopped making comments, even accepted food from me with a thanks and a smile. It was a drastic improvement and boded well for Kirkwall.

 _Kirkwall. What the flying fuck was I supposed to do when I got to Kirkwall._

I had gone over it a thousand times in my head already. No matter what angle I looked at it from, my only hope was to rely on Hawke and his family. No matter what contract they accepted it required being able to fight and I just didn't have the skillset for that. I would need them to get me in.

It had worried me so consistently that I already told Aldrin what to expect on his arrival there, hoping that small reminder of my powers would urge him to vouch for me. Once I was inside the city I could do a bit better on fending for myself. I had server skills or I could eke out a living as a street performer. There were options.

What really mattered past getting inside was remaining close to Aldrin Hawke in some capacity.

I was entirely convinced that he was the reason I was here: to right the wrongs that he would commit. He was in no uncertain terms a psychopath. Think Hanibal Lector or BBC's Sherlock for inspiration. I had always been fascinated with that type of mindset; those who were highly intelligent, yet apathetic to the feelings of others and so I had roleplayed Aldrin as one. He was smart, cold, able to be your best friend one moment and indifferently manipulate you the next with no capability in his design to see why that was wrong. Aldrin wasn't a serial killer but he was curious; and he would do anything to satisfy his curiosities, even sacrifice those he called friend and family.

There would be many manipulative and evil acts Aldrin would commit that I would not expect, but I knew the major ones and those I planned to avoid.

Fenris was one of them; handed back to Danarius in return for the secrets to the lyrium markings. Merrill was another; manipulated into a relationship in order to gain access to the Eluvian. Isabela too, handed back to the Qunari as a reward for her loyalty. Aveline even, to an extent; her relationship with Donnic sabotaged in order to keep her tied to him. Varric would not suffer directly, but Aldrin would push for research on the shard and Bartrand with no concern for his well-being on those matters.

Carver and Leandra were different. They both suffered, but not because of any direct actions on Aldrin's part. However, trying to avoid their fates by telling Aldrin the truth would ensure they were at risk. Carver because Aldrin would want to study the effects of blight sickness and would also see the advantages of having a contact in the Grey Wardens. His own mother he may not sacrifice, but he would definitely aid the necromancer's efforts in reanimating a mismatched body.

Again, who knew how many other lives he would ruin in those gaps not shown in the game, but these at least I meant to prevent. I just needed to earn the trust of everyone myself and hope by the time I needed to manipulate them, they were already wary of trusting Aldrin.

The one thing I was completely certain about was that Aldrin Hawke would come after me one day. The more I demonstrated a reliable ability to predict the future the more curious he would become until eventually he would want to see what made me tick. Since I mysteriously appeared one day, it would be nothing for me to mysteriously disappear another.

I would need to do my best to avoid being alone with him. I had already decided to approach Isabela regarding lessons in self-defense, but even then that would only help me so far. It would be an easy matter if my powers of foresight developed rapidly and allowed me to see the future as it was altered. As it stood now, I only knew events as they would happen in the game and not, as it was proved during the ogre battle, as they would actually happen.

Which meant for all the time that I spent thinking about it, I still had no certain plans on what to do.

The bell tolled, calling for an end to my group's time above deck. I took one last lingering look at the watery depths before I pinched my nose and headed back down into the dank recesses of the ship. Despite all my anxiety about it, I could not wait to disembark.


	5. Choosing the Contract

The smell of the ship was nothing compared to the smell of Kirkwall. Fifty unwashed bodies crowded in the cargo hold of a ship smelled almost flowery before the stench of about 500 unwashed refugees crowded along the docks.

There were makeshift structures set up everywhere along the wall and inside the gate corridors. They were mostly constructed out of rugs and cloaks and anything else the people had. Half-naked children ran about, while the older folks sat dejectedly, holding out hats for money no one could spare to give. Shouts drew my attention to people bathing in the dirty harbor water and I was half-tempted to join them after two weeks of only wiping myself down with a wet cloth. It was deafening here. There were constant fights between officials, captains, and refugees and the shouts would carry over the harbor. Mothers held up their screaming children as both cried loudly for food, while others would sob softly and let their haggard breaths echo off the city walls. There were even a few farm animals that had been smuggled over, adding their sad sounds to the din.

It was smelly and chaotic; and soon to be called home.

If we were even let off the ship that is. We had been docked for about an hour and had yet to disembark. We could heard the argument between the captain and one of the dock officials. Kirkwall was overcrowded and they were refusing to accept more refugees. They demanded that the captain let no one off, take on more people, and sail elsewhere.

The fear below deck was palpable and I anticipated a riot breaking out soon.

Eventually, the official relented and allowed the Captain to unload us to at least scrub the ship clean and restock the supplies. We all knew he'd charge us to get back on if the officials made him take us back and so we planned to be long gone by then.

Jostled and shoved by the crowd we moved off the ship as quickly as possible and regrouped by the entrance.

We had been kept below deck as we sailed into the city so this was my first chance to look around. I noticed the statues first. Large, bronze, and everywhere; they depicted slaves with various tortured looks. The largest were hung up in the ocean passageway and were posed as if they had been crucified. The worst were just inside the city gates and showed slaves clawing at their collars or beaten down by the weight of their chains. High above it all rose the chantry, built in pure white stone.

 _Welcome to Kirkwall_.

"They're not letting anyone into the city."

Leandra whirled around to face Aveline. "What? That can't be?"

"It's true just look at them all."

"Are we really surprised?" Carver added crossing his arms. "Everyone's fleeing the Blight. Just as we are."

"I'm surprised they even let us dock," Aldrin said with a wry smile. He glanced down at me and I made a quick head tilt to a table near the gate entrance indicating our next move. "That guard over there may be our ticket in though. Everyone seems to be reporting to him."

Aldrin led the way over and began pressing for information. The conversation was familiar, almost to script even and the exasperated guard soon directed us inside to consult with the headman there.

The stench only worsened as we walked through the gates and into the corridors of the Gallow. Seeking protection from the sun many people had set up camp within the tunnels and the air had quickly gone stale except for the occasional breeze that managed to wind its way through. Leandra and I were kept in the middle of the group, the rest of our companions fingering their weapons. Cutpurses and thugs would be common in this area as people were desperate.

The courtyard itself was considerably less crowded as the guards kept it under tight control. A few merchants had even been able to set up shop.

"There," I pointed at a guard arguing with several armed men. "I think that's our guy."

As we drew closer I found myself comparing the scene before me to the game's depicted version. Everything was grittier now. The grime and use evident on the thugs' armor and the guard had a patchy reddish-brown beard instead of the smooth 5 o'clock shadow he wore in the game. His lips were chapped and pursed as he argued with the men before him. "Then get back on your ship and leave. Kirkwall has no more room for refugees."

"The ships already gone. We paid good coin to get here," one of the thugs raged. He had missing teeth and a stench of decay.

"You and half of Fereldan. There's nothing I can do. The city is full."

"A full city will sort itself out, all these refugees on your doorstep however is a different matter," Aldrin coaxed coming to stand before the headman. "One of the guards said you were letting in people who had business in the city. We have family inside and that could mean a few less refugees out here to bother you."

"That's right. We've seen you let lots of people through," the thug from earlier jumped in.

The guard rubbed his temples. "Citizens and merchants that make it worth our while."

He turned away from the rabble band and faced Aldrin fully. "I'm going to assume that you have no more coin than these gentlemen do. We've been letting you Fereldan's in for months. You're too late. There's no more room."

"But we've got family here," Carver whined from the back.

"Yeah, I've heard claims like that a thousand times already. Trust me. We'll find some ships to take you all back to Fereldan- eventually. Until then, you stay here."

Folding his arms the guard pointed at his version of 'here' which was back out the gate we had entered through.

I had already told Aldrin what to expect once we landed. That Gamlen had lost the estate and we would not be able to bribe our way in. Our only hope was the contacts Gamlen would arrange for us once one of the guards told him we were here. We needed to convince this guard to find him for us first though and acting like we thought Gamlen was a still a nobleman would help.

Ignoring the guard's attempts to rebuff him, Aldrin pressed on."If you find our uncle, Gamlen Amell you might just have a few less refugees bothering you. He's a nobleman here in the city. I'm sure you've heard of his estate."

"A nobleman?" The guard was actually laughing. "The only Gamlen I know is a weasel who couldn't rub two coppers together. If he comes back I'll bring you to him, but I don't have time to-"

The group of men who had been arguing previously with the guard shouted suddenly and drawing their weapons, advanced on the guard..

"What? You're going to let them through?"

"We've been here for four days. They just got here!"

I had warned Aldrin earlier that the thugs would probably attack the guard and so he was ready. As soon as their steel saw light he whipped the bladed staff from across his back to impale the first man who raised his sword.

Chaos broke loose after that as guards and refugees became embroiled in conflict. What started as a small confrontation spread as stranded refugees took up arms in riot against the guards who prevented entrance. Leandra and I were quickly shielded away in one of the barracks nearby, but we heard afterwards that our group fought closely with the guards. Aldrin, Carver, and Aveline were all praised for their expertise with weapons which led me to believe that the eldest Hawke had wisely kept his mage talent secret.

The courtyard was a bloody mess by the time the small riot had been quelled and many bodies that had yet to be collected lay where they had fallen. Guards and refugees looked alike in death. Feeling surreal I took the scene in calmly and immediately sought out Aldrin.

He sat on the courtyard stairs wiping blood off himself with a wet rag and smiled at me when I drew near. I was getting comfortable with him, despite the tiny warning voice in my head that constantly reminded me of what he truly was; but it was hard not too, he was designed to be an open and trustworthy person and even as his 'creator' I could not resist him entirely.

"You are unhurt?" He asked as I knelt down before him. I nodded silently in response. "Good. That was a little more escalated than you led me to believe it would be. What is next for us?"

"We wait."

And we did. For three days.

We lived better than the other refugees. Sequestered behind the guard's barracks we had access to food they were brought and were able to use our meager amount of coin to purchase supplies for ourselves. Aldrin and Aveline both made friends fast within the ranks and any goodwill they generated extended out to us as well.

On Aldrin's behalf that meant invitations to the guard's nightly games of Wicked Grace.

It was a game very similar to poker and I picked up the various ways to play it pretty quickly. Having a natural talent for deception I was easily able to hold my own and though I was nowhere near as good as Aldrin I raked in a pretty penny or two for myself. I used the money instantly to replace my clothes. The one's from my own world nothing more than dirty rags at this point. It was cheap clothing, but it was better that what I had and it earned fewer stares. I handed the small remainder of coin over to Leandra to be used for the family.

It was in the late morning on the fourth day that our story began to move forward again..

"I think that's him," I nodded at the middle-aged man who had just entered the courtyard. Even at this distance I could tell he was not well-kept. He looked around confused for a few moments, but upon spotting us made his way over.

"Leandra?" he said peering at us through watery red eyes.

She turned at her name and slow recognition dawned across both of their faces, before she rushed to embrace him.

"Gamlen!"

"Damn, girl the years haven't been kind to you."

He broke the hug, pushing her back to take a better look at her and then the rest of us. "So I meet my nephews and niece. Let me say up front, I wasn't expecting this. The blight, your husband dead...I'd ah, figured you'd pretty much be Fereldan for life."

"Oh Gamlen, we came to late. My darling Bethany didn't make it. Andraste guide her."

He shot a puzzled look my way and I realized then with my black hair and pale skin I did resemble the Hawke family a bit. I shook my head in subtle answer and he looked back at Leandra with an expression of absolute dread.

"Oh maker, Leandra don't drop this on me here." He moaned slapping a palm to his forehead. "I don't even know if I can get you in. I was hoping to grease some palms, but the knight-commander's been cracking down. We're gonna need more grease."

Leandra regarded him quizzically. "But what about the estate? Surely father left something when he died."

Gamlen rubbed the back of his neck. "Right, about the estate...it's gone, to settle a debt. I've been meaning to write you."

An awkward silence enveloped the group. I guess Aldrin hadn't passed that bit of information onto anyone else.

"Then," Leandra looked as if she was about to faint, "there's no hope."

Gamlen hastily moved to close the distance between them. "Not quite, I know some people who might help. If you're not too delicate about the company you keep. I talked to my contacts and I found some people who might be willing to pay your way into the city. The catch is your sons will have to work the debt off for a year."

Everyone meet his proposal with skeptic expressions. Again, only Aldrin and I seemed to know his plan was our sure way in.

"It's the best I could do," Gamlen assured us, growing more defensive by the moment. "Trust me when I say a bunch of refugees won't get a better option anywhere else. I managed to convince my contact to come to the gallows to meet you personally. Meeran heads up the mercenary company, the Red Iron. They're looking for recruits. Athenril, I guess you might call her a smuggler. Either one of them can help you. All you need to do is meet them in the courtyard and convince them you're worth the trouble."

"And what of me?" Aveline declared. "I will not allow others to incur debts on my behalf."

Gamlen's face stated that he clearly did not give a shit; but he politely shrugged instead. "Can't see that it makes a difference. You look like a lady that can pull her own weight.

"Then you'll come with us," Leandra stated with motherly serenity and Aveline accepted her offer graciously.

After learning a bit more about each crew from Gamlen and where we could find his contacts in the courtyard we headed out. Hawke had listened to each option carefully and, after hearing no objections from me, chosen to pursue the mercenary path.

It made no difference to me what he chose as either job required an ability to fight that I did not possess. It made no difference to Aldrin either. He had no scruples with either occupation, but it did please Carver and Aveline to ask after the Red Iron group first.

As we moved away I heard Leandra berate Gamlen. "I can't believe you sold the estate Gamlen. How could you?"

"Well I didn't expect your blasted family to show up on my doorstep. I've got a nice place in Lowtown. You'll see. It'll work out."

We found Meeran in the far back of the covered corridor Gamlen had indicated. He and two of his hirelings lounged against the wall.

He stood up to greet us. "You must be Hawke, nice. Your uncle talked up a storm about you. He better not be blowing more smoke out of his ass."

"With that man's short list of talents I would consider it almost noteworthy if he was. This is Carver, here; and Aveline. They're interested in joining your company as well."

Meeran gave me an appraising look that made me want to shrivel. "And the girl?"

"We'll see. Tell me more about the Red Iron group."

Their conversation was familiar and I was so enthralled with listening that it caught me off guard when I realized that it had reached the killing portion already.

"So we can count on you to take him out?" Meeran asked with a criminal curl to his lips. "Do that and you're in."

"Sure." Hawke replied with an equally oiled smile. "How do you want it done? Quick and clean or is there a certain number of times he needs to yell for his mother."

"However you like. The pig just needs to pay. One of our guys will be watching."

Aldrin performed a mock bow and then strode off bidding us to wait here for his return. We stood in awkward silence with Meeran, the few attempts at small talk leading nowhere. The two extra goons kept eyeing me as we were waiting and I felt relieved when Carver put himself between them and I.

Unfortunately, that just spurned them onto making remarks.

"Do you think it's true what they say about Fereldan girls? That they wag their ass whenever you throw them a bone. I hear they like to do it on all fours and they pant like they're in heat."

"Yeah too bad about their smell then. Kirkwall whores smell like fish, but Fereldan ones stink like wet dog. I can't put my face near that and that one ain't got enough tit to make up for it either. Pretty face though. I'd make her scuff her knees."

"The little bitch looks tired of standing, I should offer her a seat."

I felt Carver tense beside me and I put my hand on his arm. This was going to be my new reality and if I wanted to survive it, I needed to learn now how to navigate it. Aveline certainly had.

I took a deep breath and stuck my neck out. "Don't bother, just because I'm small doesn't mean I like small cock."

I had expected anger, but instead they all laughed and I realized they had probably heard worse from the dockwhores. Blushing, I pulled back to hide behind Carver again, but Aveline caught my shoulder and held me firm.

She gave me a proud smile.

Still, it was a huge relief to see Hawke come striding back with another man following him. I assumed to be the Red Iron member who witnessed the deed.

Hands shook and the contract was sealed. One year of work would buy five tickets in.


	6. The Red Iron Year

We had been in Kirkwall for almost a year now. Like the game, we had settled into Lowtown with Gamlen in his house; if it could even be called that. It was drafty and rat infested despite having no windows and only one door. The haphazard building was comprised of two small rooms, separated from the slightly larger middle area by tattered curtains. The boys took one room and us three girls the second. Furniture was limited and most of our beds were a pile of blankets on a bent wooden frame. Other than Leandra, it seemed we had all formed an unspoken agreement to spend as little time at home as possible.

An easy task for most of us. Aveline, Carver, and Hawke all had contracts with the Red Iron mercenary group and though I didn't officially have one Aldrin often brought me on the job. As Flemeth had promised, my powers of foresight were improving and though the visions still occurred at random, they provided a few solid minutes warning time. It had saved us from ambushes or set-ups multiple times. My secret of course was shared with no one, so Aldrin's fame grew as he became known for being incredibly observant, lucky, and prepared; nothing seemed to go wrong when he was on the job.

The other mercenaries began to wonder why Aldrin always insisted on bringing me along and so he joked that I was his lucky charm. Eventually their teasing turned to acceptance and I was brought completely into the fold. I was trained on daggers, taught to hold my ground, and expected to adhere to all the codes and rules of the Red Iron mercenaries. I learned too, the colorful language of the Kirkwall underground and the finer points on playing a winning hand in Wicked Grace.

Aldrin was by far their best fighter and since I was never assigned to a job that he was not present on, I ended up working the more dangerous ones. I fought alongside carta members, lyrium smugglers, and even in a few Free March noble scraps.

My first kill made me sick and Aveline had to walk me off a ways. She sat me down by the docks and showed me how to clean my daggers. I thought I would cry, but I never did. Not even after the third or the seventh.

So many things had changed for me in the year. It was hard to believe I once lived on earth and worked in a coffee shop…...

"Shepard! Where is that blasted girl? SHEP-ARD!"

 _Crap._

"You know how she's like," one of the mercenaries lounging outside said. "One of those Orleasian whores. Always has to bathe. You'll probably find her there."

I heard the quick thudding of boots head in my direction. The door to the bath flung open and in the frame stood Aveline.

"There you are! Bathing again?" She said in a rushed voice. "We got contracted and we leave in an hour. Last one for us. How do you feel about that?"

I sunk deeper into the bath, unsure. Last one meant the story moved forward, but it also meant the end of the merc group and the luxuries that came with it. Like this tub they kept in the hole we ran jobs out of.

"Sulking again. Fine. Get out. Get ready." She ordered and then marched out. The door slammed behind her.

I sank even deeper, blowing bubbles out of my nose. The water wasn't even warm at this point, but it would possibly be the last time for a long while that I experienced feeling clean again. Eventually, I dared wait no longer lest Aveline came back and physically haul me out. Groaning I stood up letting the water drip off me before I grabbed a rag to dry with.

Standing before the mirror I took stock of myself.

I still had black hair, small boobs, and dark eyes with golden flecks, but much else had changed in my year here. My once skinny form had filled out quite a bit; it looked toned and slightly muscular now. My hair had grown too and my once short edgy haircut resembled a mix between Vince's from _The Mighty BOOSH_ and Joan Jett's now. I twisted to see my back and the strange tattoo it bore. It hadn't caught me off guard when Leandra first mentioned the artwork there, but when she described it as an intricate design drawn in gold I had been disconcerted as to what she was talking about. It hadn't been until the next day that I had fully seen that the black angel wing tattoo I was expecting had indeed been altered. Now, the upper part of my back was covered in thick gold lines that vaguely resemble a tree. I had no idea on when it had been changed, how, or even why, but it was just one mystery of many I no longer bothered with. Sighing, I faced forward again and brushed my long bangs aside as best I could before my hand fell down to trace the scar along my jawline.

They had been going for my throat.

I hadn't seen it coming. Aldrin had though. I was ontop of a dead man, my daggers having recently slit his throat open when I saw the blade coming. I turned, met the stare of my killer, known there was no way to block it, and honestly I had accepted it almost; but then there was a strong yank on my hair and I tumbled back, the sword slicing my face instead as my throat pulled out of reach. Aldrin finished them and then turned away onto the next foe, leaving me to regain my feet and plunge back in on my own. I didn't notice that my jaw had been cut until much later when my front was covered in blood. I nursed a health tonic to stop the bleeding until a medic stitched it up. That pain I did notice and remember.

I dropped my hand. It was one scar of many, but it was the largest. Luck, a natural quickness, and foresight helped me avoid injury most of the time. That and a brutal training regiment as the Red Iron made sure I was up to their hiring standards. For a year, this had been my life.

But it was our last job today. It was our last day on contract and afterwards we would be released. They had offered us a permanent position of course, but I was the only one to seriously consider it. Aveline would join the Kirkwall guard after this; Carver and Aldrin would seek fortune; and I, well I had no definitive clue on what I would do.

Sighing, I got dressed.

The brown leather armor had once felt awkward to me. Now though, even leaving home without it made me feel almost naked. After the armor was fastened the harness and dirks came, then the two daggers in my boots and the tiny finger pricker against my lower back. Next, the Red Iron tabard was slipped over it all and Flemeth's amulet tucked away into a pocket. Finally, I tied and pulled the bandanna on over my head, sweeping as much hair back as I could, though the bangs and many of the smaller strands escaped capture. I took one last look at myself and then marched out, shooting the lady merc who had ratted me out to Aveline a nasty raspberry before I left.

"So who are we today? Sellswords, smugglers, or bodyguards?" I asked as I approached Hawke and the others.

"Prettied up thugs," Aveline sneered.

"We have a contract with one of the dwarves in the Merchant's Guild," Hawke clarified as he adjusted his boots. "One of Vidka's shipments went missing and we're to track it and the ones responsible for its misplacement down."

My brow furrowed.

"What? Isn't that a job for the Carta? Meeran's trying to cheat us. This is going to take longer than a day and this was supposed to be the end of it," Carver said, voicing everything that was on my mind.

"Shut it," Aldrin said tersely. "The job won't take past today. I already know where the shipment is." He stood with a crude stretch. "Meeran is not the only one with connections to the underground. We head to a warehouse in Lowtown. Our prize should be in the tunnels underneath"

* * *

Blood sprayed across my left side from the cut dwarf's throat, but I was already wheeling away and back-peddling to dodge the hammered blows of the next dwarf's axe. He was pressing me hard and I could not get close enough to hit him. An arrow thunked into the ground next to my feet and I silently cursed our terrible archers. Fat lot of help they were. I would have to break his guard myself. The axe swung wide and before he could recover I was inside his range. The pommel of my first dirk hit him square between the eyes before I pivoted, bringing the second blade on an upward slash beneath his extended arm and then rolled out of reach behind him. He turned to pursue me and was met with an arrow in his face.

Grinning with exhilaration, I took a quick moment to flash a thumbs up at the archer who had actually come through for me.

My vision suddenly darkened, flashes of the future screening across my mind. It cleared and I ran towards Hawke. With a springing leap forward I landed knees first on the back of a dwarf knocking him down, my blades sinking into the small spot between helm and armor, as I looked up at Hawke and Aveline.

"They're going to move the cargo. We gotta go."

"What?" Hawke grunted as he fired off a spell.

"They are going to pull back and head to the tunnels soon to take the shipment we want. We need to move before they get there, everyone here is just a diversion. Aveline, can you cover us to the entrance? Aldrin and I can handle it once inside. I've seen it play out."

Aldrin signaled to the archers to let them know we were pushing forward and then he and I made our way to the hole-in-the-wall entrance for the tunnels. Aveline covered us with her shield and Aldrin froze anyone in our path so it was not long before we scooted in and slid down into darkness. We landed with a light splash, up to our ankles covered in water and who knows what else; I tried not to think about it. Aldrin moved to stand beside me, holding a small flame of magic in his hand to light the tunnel. It made the sharp angles of his face stand out even more.

"Down that way," I indicated and moved forward.

I led the way, picking my pace up as I saw the light at the end. The tunnel emptied into open sea and at first it looked like there was no way to get up to the platform on our left, but I had seen the ladder they hid in place and pointed it out to Aldrin. We would need to knock it down without them noticing. I knew the password from what my visions had shown me, but since we weren't dwarfs they would obviously know it was being misused. Leaning out, Aldrin reached up slowly with the bladed end of his staff, moving carefully to hook one of the radder lungs. He pulled back slowly and I held my breath that it wouldn't clatter too loudly as it fell.

It did and we heard voices react on the platform.

With a jump Aldrin cleared the gap and landed on the ladder. Climbing upwards quickly he sent a blast of fire into the first dwarf's face that peered over the cliff.

"Quick! Cut it!" A voice shouted and I saw another dwarf crouch down to began sawing at the ladder's anchor. He wasn't in Aldrin's line of sight, but he was in mine and I quickly grabbed at one of the daggers in my boot. Aiming for the dwarf's head, I flung it forward and missed. He hesitated long enough to gesture towards his partner who began to fire arrows at me. I ducked behind the tunnel opening to hide and when I next peeked out Aldrin had reached the top and was now a whirlwind of fire and lightning. Judging it safe, I jumped, a rude shock going through my body as I caught the ladder rung with one hand. It swung wildly and I had to wait a few minutes for it to still itself before I began climbing up. The sounds of fighting died out and when I reached the top it was indeed over. I ignored the three corpses and walked over to Aldrin who was already inspecting the shipment.

"No damages," he said running his hand over the palleted wood. "I wonder what it is?" I remained silent, knowing nothing I said would talk him out of opening it if he wanted too. He inspected it a few moments more before deciding it would be of no interest to him. "Nothing magical and it's not smuggled lyrium either. Your vision mention how we get out of here with it?"

I sighed and shook my head.

He grunted. "Of course. No matter. Find us a net and we can lower it down to the boat at the pier."

Dismissed, I walked over to the closest door and laid my hand against its frame hoping to prompt a vision. Nothing happened so I pressed my ear to it next and when I was greeted with silence slowly worked it open. It lead into a lit hallway with a multitude of doors along its walls. Inching forward I listened to the first door on my right and hearing nothing, creaked it open. It was deserted and after searching it I found nothing of interest. I continued this for three more rooms and was just about to open the fourth before I heard Aldrin's hushed, but impatient voice beckon me back.

"What are you doing? Stop messing around and help. I've found what we need."

I glowered at him, but obeyed and began to pull the door back when something caught my eye. Creaking it open again I grabbed the scroll off the table and unfurled it. It was an advertisement for an expedition and I smiled before I rolled it up and tucked it into my belt. It would come in handy soon. I hurried back to meet Hawke, who was busy loading shipments onto a net he had found. He didn't even spare me a glance.

"Get down the ladder and I'll lower this to you." He ordered. I complied and after climbing down the ladder reached up to accept the heavy net from the end of his staff. It was heavier than I expected and it hit the wooden deck with a loud thunk. "Careful!" Aldrin hissed.

I quickly shifted the boxes out of the net and then handed it back up to him empty. There were not many packages, but because of their weight it was going to take two or three net loads to get them all loaded. He vanished from the ledge and then returned a few minutes later to lower the filled net again. This time I was prepared and managed to set it down gently. We were on our last round when we heard voices echo out from the tunnel. I gave Aldrin a quick look and then began to hurriedly shove packages onto the boat, less concerned about where they sat in it now. He swung down the ladder as the first carta face poked her head out of the tunnel and spotted us.

"No! Get-" she started to shout, but was cut off by a stream of fire Aldrin channeled into the mouth of the tunnel. Loud screams echoed off the tunnel walls now as Hawke climbed into the boat beside me. He grabbed a second set of paddles and began to help me furiously row ourselves out of the small cave mouth. We both slowed as we reached open water. The silence of the cave told us there would be no pursuit.


	7. How I met your Uncle Varric

I had always wondered how soon Hawke pursued Bartrand's expedition after he was released from the contract with Meeran. In headcanon I had always pictured it to be a few weeks afterwards, but in the case of my Hawke it was six days later.

Since our last job, I had been cooped up inside the house. Aveline had moved out two days ago, and Carver had been a constant bother to her in his new quest to join the guard as well. He was probably there again today. Aldrin had taken to disappearing for long hours at a time, but none of us were ever sure what he was up to and Leandra and Gamlen each had their own errands to busy themselves with. Since no one ever offered for me to accompany them and without any duties of my own to attend to I ended up alone in the house for most of the day.

This afternoon I sat hunched up in bed, practicing my reading and writing. It was a strange thing to be able to speak the language, but not write or read it fluently. The English I knew was pronounced the same here, but was formed from a different almost runic format of letters. Surprisingly, Carver had been the one to dedicate himself to teaching me how to write and read it and now the English language as I knew it was something I used as code with him, both of us exchanging what the letter "A" or "Q" looked like to us. It had been...interesting and I missed those lessons now. It had been obvious he held a candle for me, but since the practice was usually done at home and with others around there had been little occasion for flirting which was fine by me. My feelings towards him were unclear still.

"Cooped up in the dark again," a voice said, breaking my thoughts. I looked up to see Aldrin's lean form framed in the doorway. He looked almost predatory and I felt the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up in response. "Why didn't you go out with the others?"

 _Because I didn't think you'd be back before them._

"Because I was hoping to catch you alone," I lied, thinking quickly. Alone and with no distractions, Aldrin was a dangerous predicament for me as it would lead to questions I did not want to answer or worse. I needed to maintain control of the conversation as much as possible.

"Oh? Carver would be jealous to hear."

"Carver is jealous of everything," I replied, and reached up under the sagging wooden frame that passed as my bed to grab at the scroll I had hidden there. "Here. Take a look at this. I found it at the Carta warehouse during our last job, but I wanted you to see it first and alone. My visions have shown you in the Deep Roads, but I'm not entirely sure if this is how you get there."

He took it from my outstretched hand and unfurled it carefully. There was no actual reason that I needed to present it to him alone, but it was the corner I had backed myself into at this point. I saw him read it once and then again and only the slightest twitch in his facial muscles told me he was considering it.

"Well?"

"Ser Bartrand Tethras of House Tethras and respected member of the Merchants guild is hereby hiring experienced laborers, expeditioners, armored security measures, and guides." He released the bottom and let the scroll furl itself up. "For a six-month to year long expedition in the deep roads. Payment will be discussed prior to departure and in percentage of share. Now, explain why you thought I would want to see this?"

"Because in the Deep Roads I've seen you find enough riches to get your family's estate back."

"As hired help?"

"For starters."

"You know I hate these vague far-flung future visions you give me."

I put my book down. "Trust me, so do I. But I haven't been wrong yet. Flemeth. Getting into Kirkwall. Meeran. They might not have as many details as the flash visions I get on the regular, but they are just as good."

He drew closer, locking eyes with me and for a moment I thought he meant to lean down and pin me to the corner of the bed as he gave in to curiosity about my visions and found an answer by force, but he merely picked the book up with a sly smile before straightening to read the title.

" _The Vipers Nest_ by V. Tethras? That's the second time that house name has popped up today."

I made a face, my heart hammering from the brief nearness of him still. He flipped the book open to a random page. "He traced his fingers down her exposed backside, along her spine, the pressure growing until he reached the rounded slope of her ass. She twisted her head as much as the bindings would allow, a pleading moan escaping. He met her eyes. There was a restrained desire in them, and power; the knowledge that he could do with her as he liked. With a forceful motion he spread her buttocks and she felt the prick of his cock against her-"

"You're a fucking ass," I said, interrupting him. I could feel that my face was flushed, though I couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. The book was about an elven courtier who got involved in the conflict between two different carta clans that were both plotting to blackmail the Queen. The story was mostly plot - mostly, but it did have a few smut scenes like the exact one Aldrin had managed to flip to.

"No, it sounds like they were fucking ass or about to. If you're curious about how that works there are far better ways to learn than reading this trash."

I drew back unsure on what he meant. There was the telltale creak of the front door then, that slammed shut moments after and heavy footsteps brought Carver into view, frustration evident on his face. "They turned me away again! I don't understand how she-." Only expecting me to be home, he stopped short at the sight of Aldrin and looked between the two of us with a mix of anger and concern. "What are you doing to her?"

"Don't be so paranoid Carver." Aldrin smiled as he dropped the book back down next to me. "Nothing as you can obviously see. We were just discussing literature."

Carver did not know the full extent of his brother's capabilities as I, the creator did; but he knew enough, even been subject to enough most likely to be wary of Aldrin and so he looked to me for confirmation.

"Yeah," I swallowed. "Though he and I don't seem to share the same tastes on it."

I didn't see Carver's full reaction to my answer for Aldrin moved in between him and I, blocking us from sight of each other. He was all sweetness and sugar with his brother as he showed Carver the expedition scroll asking for his input on the idea. Carver was hesitant at first to enter the deep roads, especially after what he had witnessed at Ostagar, but eventually he was persuaded by the fact that my vision had promised the return of their estate and a plan was struck to seek out Bartrand Tethras immediately.

"Have fun boys," I said eager to return to my reading. Aldrin, however was insistent that I accompany them and eventually persuaded me by hovering a small flame between the pages of my book, threatening to do more than just singe it. I quickly snapped the book shut, snuffing the flame out instantly and in an angered huff gathered my things. I ignored the looks of guilt Carver kept giving me for failing to stop his older brother and I ignored the smug look of Aldrin too as we left for Hightown.

I was soon happy that I had come along as our first order of business was to purchase new armor. The current protection we wore was the old and beat-up Red Iron armor we had bought with part of our first few paychecks and it was in need of dire replacement if we were to be presentable candidates for an exploration into the Deep Roads or any other jobs.

Spending coin was never a favorite habit of ours since we had very little of it; we much preferred to take what we could. However, that would not be acceptable in this case. Don't get me wrong, looting bodies was a common practice in Kirkwall, but it was more so for money, potions, and weapons. Armor was rarely taken either because it had a hole in it from the killing blow or it was so dented and gunked up that repairing it would nearly equal the cost of purchasing it new.

Lucky for us, some of our old contacts through the mercenary group were still on solid terms with the eldest Hawke and were willing to provide us a discount. I selected another simple outfit in black leather complete with vambraces and greaves that fit nicely over my boots. It was cheaply made armor, but it possessed decent mobility, was lightweight, and looked presentable. Our transaction complete we made our way towards the Merchant's Guild area.

Bartrand Tethras was behind a booth and in the thick of making preparations. It was a hub of activity here and I did a quick sweep of the crowd to see if I could spot Varric or the merchant Bodahn and his boy Sandal, but I saw no familiar faces. It was some time before we were able to work ourselves close enough to speak with Bartrand and the conversation we had with him went much the same as it did in game leading to us getting quickly rejected. It put Aldrin in a nasty mood.

"I thought you said we'd be taken on," he hissed as he pulled me by the arm out of the crowd. "I don't enjoy being made to look the fool."

Twisting out of his grip I strode away from him with purpose. I knew exactly where I needed us to go.

"Bartrand isn't the one who brings us on and his very refusal to is the cog that puts it all in motion. Now all we need to do is have Archie from Riverdale make the next move," I said as I saw a dirty lad with red hair catch sight of Aldrin. Bowing his head the teen started to make his way towards us. In moments like this when you wanted the moment to occur instead of avoid it foresight was difficult to navigate. I had to act completely normal in order not to alert the suspicions of Hawke or little Archie the pickpocket.

"What are you on about?"

 _Misdirection._

"Just keep your eyes right and up."

 _Check._

"Am I watching for a bird to take a shit on someone?"

 _And._

The red lad increased his pace and then there was the soft bump of two colliding bodies as he purposefully ran into the eldest Hawk and snagged his coin purse before darting off.

 _Mate._

"Andraste's tits," Aldrin swore as his realized what had happened. "Thief!"

Since we were in town, Hawke wouldn't risk using magic and so we were forced to pursue the cutpurse on foot across the courtyard. The thief disappeared around a corner and by the time we were able to see where he had gone, the lad was already pinned to the wall with a crossbow bolt. A diminutive figure relieved him of Hawke's coin purse before placing a nice right hook on the lad's chin and reclaiming his bolt.

I didn't hide my smile as the dwarf swaggered over to us.

"How do you do? Varric Tethras at your service." He said, introducing himself with his customary tongue-in-cheek charm. "I apologize for Bartrand, he wouldn't know an opportunity if hit him square in the jaw."

Hawke studied him for a moment, slid his eyes to me, and then back to Varric. "But you would?" He replied, with a slightly challenging tone.

"I would! What my brother doesn't realize is that we need someone like you. He would never admit it either - he's too proud. I, however, am quite practical."

"And what makes you so certain we can help? You know nothing about us."

Varric chuckled. "On the Contrary - you've made quite the name for yourself over the last year. Serving with the Red Iron is no mean feat; yet you not only served, you impressed. The name 'Hawke' is on many lips these days. Not bad for a Fereldan fresh off the boat!"

"You must have heard about me as well, then." Carver inserted.

"A little, yes, but it's mostly your brother they speak most of," Varric answered and I heard Carver mutter a sour "that figures" under his breath. The dwarf paid him no mind. "And his lucky charm which I assume is this dark haired beauty standing next to you."

I snorted at that.

I knew teasing flattery when I heard it and beauty was not a common name for me. I gave him a wry smile with no answers and he moved on. Now that the conversation between Hawke and him was flowing smoothly as it did in the game I busied myself with studying him more in depth. The gold chain around his neck, the hilt of his infamous crossbow peeking over his shoulder, the deep V of his shirt that indeed revealed a copious amount of chest-hair, and the slight shadow of stubble on his rocky jawline. _Rocky Jawline. Really? That's how I choose to describe it?_ Well, then. I never thought I'd be slightly attracted to a dwarf.

The conversation went by quickly and I was not prompted for any comments until the very end when Hawke looked to me for answers. He had a strange sense of pride where he didn't like to be told outright what was a good or bad idea, but if my face or body language gave any clues as to whether his current direction was good or bad he would happily follow that. Otherwise, he wanted the information and nothing else. So when his eyes slid to me this time, my choice to speak up was a little unexpected.

"It's not like we had anything else planned, plus Varric will be invaluable in the years to come. There is no one better at keeping secrets," I said, pressing on despite the dangerous narrowing of Aldrin's eyes. I turned to Varric. "Afterall, you've kept that crossbow's origin a mystery for years, but one day you'll share the story of Bianca with me."

The dwarf's hand reached up to caress the hilt of his crossbow with a sudden suspicion in his eyes.

"What are you doing Mar?" Carver muttered to me under his breath, but I ignored him.

"In return for that future secret here's one of mine: I'm a seer."

This time Varric's eyes widened and both Hawkes moved defensively around me, an action that the dwarf took notice of. Chuckling nervously he dropped his hands to hook them in his belt instead. I had no doubt he had a number of escape tricks tucked in there. "No offense Sunshine, but I know about a hundred rivani women or elves that claim the exact same thing."

I shrugged in response. "It doesn't matter if you don't believe me now, you will. You and your brother are still in need of a good entrance into the Deep Roads, right?"

"Yeah, I'll start believing anything you say if you come through for us on that. Problem is, I'm not just gonna take you at your word to start with."

"That's a given," I said with a smile. "In the meantime, keep your ears to the ground for a former Grey Warden coming into lowtown. He'll have the map you need."

Varric raised his brows and chuckled. "Ok, I'll see where that goes."

Aldrin made a comment about us needing the coin first and a suggestion was made to visit Aveline in the guard barracks in case she had any bounty work. Though Aldrin had relaxed and turned on his charm for the new group's addition I had not forgotten the glare he had given me earlier for speaking out of line and I made a quick note to self to hide my coin purse in a new spot tonight. Gamlen always seemed to end up with some extra coin whenever I was missing mine, but I knew it was Aldrin's doing. It only happened whenever he was 'displeased' with me.

"This Grey Warden of yours, he got a name? Maybe a timeline of when he'll be in town?" Varric said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Anders, but you'll locate him quicker by listening to rumors of a healing clinic in lowtown. As for when, I have no clue."

"Alright Sunshine, what-"

I winced. "Don't call me that. If Hawke's sister had survived you would...that would've been hers."

"Ok, Chuckles."

"No good either. You meet someone later who deserves it far more and yes, for ironic reasons so hold onto it."

"Fine...Boss."

"Oh no, not that one," I said with a glance towards Aldrin. "Don't paint a target on my back like that. Call me Puzzles."

"You don't get to choose your own nickname!" He exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "But I'll bite. Why Puzzles?"

"That's the puzzle."

"Maker's balls," Varric laughed. "Puzzles it is then."

"What about me? Do I get a nickname?" Carver asked, twisting his head back to eye both of us.

Varric winked at me. "Sure, Junior."

"Ugh, I don't like that at all," Carver grimaced. "How about Muscles or Killer?"

"Sorry, Junior. Nicknames are non-negotiable."

"But Mar-"

"Non-negotiable."

I smiled, appreciative of how much lighter the mood was with Varric around, even Aldrin seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself as he and Varric struck up an easy banter. In my playthrough, Aldrin had managed to always remain on the good side of the dwarf and I wondered if that would be reflected here. Part of me hoped not.


	8. The Fresh Pirate of Kirkwall

I craned my neck about trying to see if I could spot Seneschal Bran, but the high railing blocked the viscount's office from my view. Sighing, I returned to slouching against the wall as we awaited Hawke's return. He had gone alone to the Kirkwall guard offices located on the upper far right floor. It was open to the public as bounties were posted there, but crowding was never encouraged so Varric, Carver, and I were made to wait downstairs.

An old, but large white marble building, the Viscount's Keep of Kirkwall was well maintained. As any building located in Hightown must be. The keep was nicely furnished inside with bookcases and benches lining the waiting area and a grand staircase that split up towards the upper floors that housed the various political offices. Though the guards operated out of the keep, their actual barracks were a few buildings down the street. We had visited there first, only to hear that the lady we were looking for had just returned from patrol and headed to the keep to make a report.

I looked up to see Hawke's lean form descending the staircase and a hush fell over Varric and Carver as they noticed him too.

"Well, did she have anything?" Carver blurted out as his elder brother drew near.

"No," Hawke replied curtly. "The Board was empty."

I stared at him waiting for him to say more about Aveline's offer then, but the conversation moved on to Varric offering up other opportunities if we could join him at the Hanged man. I sucked in a breath ready to just blurt it out and then thought better of it. I should approach it tactfully. There was no reason to dig the hole any deeper than it already was. I closed my eyes and took a deliberate breath.

"Did Aveline not offer you any job off the board? Perhaps one where we were to accompany her to the coastline and rid the world of some troublesome bandits?" I said, interrupting Varric mid-sentence. All eyes turned on me.

I could tell by Aldrin's face that I was right though.

"I recommend we go along with it." I pressed on, forcing my tone to be nonchalant. "It will pave her way to becoming Guard Captain, which would be very advantageous considering our current status. Plus, it would ensure we get first pick of all the bounties, which again would be very advantageous considering our current status."

Hawke stared me down, but the way his brow furrowed slightly I knew he was thinking on it at least. After a few moments, he turned abruptly.

"I better not regret this."

I watched Hawke stride away and then feeling eyes on me, looked aside to find Varric studying me appraisingly. He smiled and rubbed his chin when our eyes met. "Ok Puzzles, there might be some truth to that belief of yours."

"Of course there is," Carver interjected proudly as if Varric's words had offended my honor. "How else do you think my brother managed the reputation he has? It's all thanks to her really."

 _Then why does he have it and not you?_

But that was something Hawke would say and I wasn't Hawke; not really, not anymore. So I rolled my eyes and stayed silent instead, letting the jumbled voices of Carver and Varric fade into white background noise. My gaze was locked onto the Guard office entrance.

Hawke did not make us wait long this time. He filled us in on the details before we left the Keep, everything matching to what I expected from the game's outline. Aveline had insisted she be present for the coast clearing, but she wasn't off for a few hours still. So we agreed to Varric's suggestion that we visit his favorite tavern and base of operations: The Hanged Man.

The walk from pristine Hightown to crowded Lowtown was a long one. Down three flights of stairs at a count of 322 steps in total. A few merchants had grown wise to the toll the steps took on a body and had set up shop on the midway plateaus between staircases; they sold food and water and a few offered rickshaw rides for the rest of the way up or down. The nobles of course never had to take the steps as they used carriages on the ramped sides that were reserved for merchant carts, but the rest of the city was known for strong leg muscles. I will say the outline did help keep crime rates in Hightown low, as few petty criminals thought it worth the trek up and down the staircase to enter the heavily guarded estates of the nobles. Gold was found and made much easier in the taverns and back alleys of Lowtown.

The area that the Hanged Man tavern was in, was a particularly profitable crime spot as of late.

Usually the docks housed most of the gambling dens, whore houses, and smuggling rackets that turned a pretty penny, but with the recent establishment of a compound to house a large force of shipwrecked Qunari the docks began to receive a large amount of attention from the city guard which made the usual riffraff move their illicit activities to Lowtown. It was an exciting time and the Hanged Man was at the center of it. Populated by guild members, carta members, low-end merchants, mercenaries, and smugglers it was a hub of knowledge and connections that a man like Varric could expertly navigate.

I entered the pub for the first time below the head of its infamous decor: a bloodied rag doll hung by its feet.

The inside was noise and spice. Full of body odor, beer, and cooking meat. Varric seemed to have some sort of table on reserve, for he led us straight to a table in the back corner and a barmaid followed close behind with a tankard. She set it down before him, barely glancing at us. Apparently she was used to not paying Varric's associates any mind.

"What'll you all be having then?" Was the only thing she said to us.

"Round of ale on me, Norah," Varric said with a wink

Nodding curtly she strode off towards the bar and my eyes followed her. Standing by the bar counter was a recognizable backside. I nudged the dwarf and nodded towards the figure.

"Oh, that's Isabela. You know her?" he said.

A man leaned up on the counter beside her. Lucky was his name, I remembered. Two others hung back a bit almost blocking Isabela and the first man from view. "Sorta, just watch," I replied, getting the rest of my table to peer in that direction.

We couldn't hear what was being said, but it wasn't long before we all knew something had gone wrong. Isabela stepped back and in a deft movement had maneuvered Lucky's head downward where she slammed it repeatedly on the counter until he dropped. His goons moved in afterwards, but a few well placed elbow jabs and kicks soon had them kneeling too. The fight had gained everyone's attention at this point and the whole joint now stood in a semi-circle to watch it. Lucky had managed to stand and was drawing his sword, but Isabela had the upper hand on him and it ended in stalemate. Her dagger at his throat and his sword raised to cleave. He backed off and she turned back to the counter as if nothing had happened.

I looked at Hawke. "She's about to get approached by more than one person offering to buy her a drink or marry her. There's a job there for you if you get to her first. She won't pay, but the bodies will if you know what I mean."

"You've been bold today," he said, sliding his gaze over to me. I smiled uneasily, but he downed his drink and stood. He was so smug. "I'll see what I can get out of her. Or into her maybe," he said with a smirk before walking off. I watched him approach the bar. Lean up beside her as if he belonged.

Carver and Varric immediately turned to me with questions, but I held them off with a long chug of ale. It was watery and nasty, but I much preferred it to answering. Hawke walked Isabela over to our table and I got a good look at her finally. She was dark, curvy, and beautiful, despite Aveline's comments about her in the game. She had freckles across her nose and she was very busty, with boobs that were almost the size of my head. She wore a low cut shirt to emphasize that fact with a swashbuckling sort of belt across it. She had knee high boots, brown leggings, and a bright blue bandana on. She was amply pierced.

"Rivani," Varric said in a welcoming tone. 'How yah been?"

"Up and down. Face forward, ass down, and the reverse of it," she said with a sweet chuckle, sliding into the seat opening next to Carver who grimaced and moved away from her. "Though I have a bit of a problem I was hoping your new friend here could help me solve. I've arranged for a duel tonight, but I need someone to watch my back."

"Who's this person that you've arranged to meet?" Hawke asked.

"Hayder," I supplied, attracting everyone's attention. "You were right to search for backup. He won't play fair."

"I should have hired you instead of Lucky it seems. What's your name?" Isabela said with a wink.

"That's Marian," Carver said, speaking for me. "And I'm Carver, Aldrin's brother. You never introduced yourself."

Isabela smiled, raised her mug. "I'm Captain Isabela, though I admit the title is a bit hollow since I'm currently without a ship. So Marian, how'd you come by that bit of information?"

It was my turn to smile. "I'm a seer, but a limited one. So don't think you can be selling off fortunes from me for profit."

She looked skeptical at first, but when no one laughed she regarded me with interest. "Hmm, alright. I'm not one to disregard unusual claims. Comes with the business."

"So whose Hayder and why the duel with him?" Aldrin said, tapping Isabela's mug with his own to get her attention.

"A man I worked with back in Antiva. He never liked me. He's been asking about me all around Kirkwall. Thought I'd get it over with face-to-face. As for the duel? I like duels. It's what I do. Plus if I win, he's dead and the problem is solved."

"And the information you wanted from Lucky? What was that?"

"I asked Lucky and his boys to track down something I lost. They failed to do it. It's nothing to worry about and this is much more important."

Aldrin looked to me for confirmation of that fact. I kept my face indifferent and nodded. He turned back to her with a warm smile. "Count me in to help tonight then. I think I can manage watching your back."

"I bet," Isabela chuckled. She stood up and downed the rest of her mug keeping her eyes on Aldrin. "I've arranged to meet Hayder in Hightown after dark. I'll meet you near that first house on the left." And then with a wink she sauntered away.

We remained in the Hanged Man for another hour or so, letting Varric spend the coin to keep us there, until Aveline arrived. All business and impatience to be on the way. Unfortunately for her, we had some sobering up to do first.

It was cold along the coast and I burrowed deeper into my cloak, resentful of the fact that I had been made to come along. Just because I had been taught to fight didn't mean I particularly enjoyed the jobs that involved it, but Aldrin had insisted on my presence anyways.

"Just walk out there and hold your satchel up. That's what they're after. Just convince them you're in on it and they have the right thing," I said in an attempt to convince Aveline. We were observing the bandit camp from behind a rocky outcropping.

"Why do I have to do it?" Aveline muttered. "And is there any guarantee that this will work?"

"Because you're the only one dressed like a guard," Carver supplied, scratching his head.

"Yes, which means we should ambush them and take them in. Why are we doing it this way?" She shot back.

I closed my eyes, highly annoyed. "Because I'm cold and miserable and I want to get out of here as quickly as possible," I said and shoved the satchel back at her. "This'll work, just go."

She glowered at me, but stood and at that instant I had a flash of the future cross my eyes.

em _Aveline strode out into the clearing, hand held high with the decoy satchel clutched tightly. She called out, claiming she brought what they needed. That there was no need to fight and she was part of the fold, a necessary messenger to be released alive. She reached the cart and looked around. No one appeared. And then an arrow sprouted from her eye and she stood, one eye round and shocked, the other dangling red against her cheekbone. The satchel dropped beside_

"Aveline, wait!" I mumbled rapidly, tugging her back in. "Turns out these bandits are more of a shoot first, ask questions later type. We should ambush them."

She threw her hands up, glowering at me again.

"How unexpected," she muttered sarcastically. "Now what?"

Varric peeked back over the rocks. "I can see about seven down by the wagon and then there are three scouts on the ridge. I can get the scouts down, but they'd get at least one shot off."

"We can lure the main crew out here by making a little noise instead of walking into their camp, which was a stupid idea," Aldrin said, flat-toned. "Varric you handle the scouts. The rest of you can ambush the main group once they get here and I'll cut off their route of escape and handle any stragglers."

I grit my teeth, not really wanting to be part of the melee, but it would be no use to argue with him. At his signal we moved off to be the bait in his trap.

It took a few rocks clattering against the cliffside and the glint of Aveline's armor before we had the bandit crew moving in our direction. Aldrin created a fire wall across their retreat path immediately and then helped Carver and Aveline take down the close range fighters while Varric picked off the scouts. I spent most of my time rolling and dodging, getting the few blows I could in. One of the more experienced bandits had her eyes set on me as an easy target. She was faster and stronger than I was and knew it. The only thing that saved me was foresight. She would disappear from my sights in the chaos of battle and I would turn struggling to track her amidst the dust and blows of the other fighters only to have her reappear behind me, but I could see it right before it happened and was always able to move in time only to have the process repeated. I'm not sure who eventually ended her life. I only remember falling face first into the dirt and opening my eyes to see her head roll across the ground before me. She had blue eyes.

The battle was over in a few minutes and afterwards I sat down to clean my weapons as I had been taught too and survey the others. No one seemed injured, but it was always hard to tell after a battle. Determining whose blood was where so soon after was possibly only a mystery that Sherlock could solve. There was blood on me too, and dirt.

Aldrin brought my cloak down from the outcropping and came over to where I was sitting. I reached out with my hand to take it from him, but he moved behind me to drape it about my shoulders instead. "Well done," he whispered, so uncomfortably close that his breath tickled my neck.

"Thanks," I muttered, aware of Carver watching us. I met his eyes, but he looked away.

The job done, we looted what we wanted and then followed Aveline back up to the keep. Covered in the leftovers of battle we looked terribly out of place in the lavishly decorated waiting room and though we weren't outright asked to leave, we were kindly instructed to not sit or lean on anything. Luckily it was only a few moments before Hawke came down from the Guard office. He was alone and we left to discuss our next move out of earshot.

"So tell me how that helped Aveline again?" Hawke said, turning to me as soon as we were outside. "Because I think between watching her get verbally reprimanded by her captain and us getting nothing for our efforts I've missed the actual benefit of that job."

"Not all my visions have instant rewards," I said, shoving my hands into my back pockets.

"Well, let's try to limit them to the ones that do," he replied lightly, though the glint in his eyes casually reminded me it was not entirely a joke. "Now, by my guess there's only an hour or two until we need to meet Isabela, was it? So, perhaps we could make use of our time up here instead of wasting it going up and down that bloody fucking staircase. Have any ideas Varric?"

"I've always got a few," the dwarf chuckled. "C'mon and follow me."

His hand beckoned us and we trailed after him through Hightown with productive enough results. We generated a few potential job leads in the merchant area, including one for the Bonepit and finding a missing wife. Familiar quests to me and both with no cruel lashbacks based on Aldrin's decisions that I could think of. I needed to be more aware of that type of thing. The closer we were getting to the scheduled meeting with Isabela the more anxious I was growing. I had been so excited to meet her that it hadn't occurred to me until too late that we had never truly needed too. All of her problems she could've easily solved on her own if I recalled correctly. Castro, the missing item, even Hayder, but now she was at risk for being outed and handed right off to the Qunari. I should have left things alone in that bar, at least then if she ended up being part of the crew the blame wouldn't be directly on me. In my head, I owed her now.

So I made sure to earn her trust when we met again that night. Everything I could remember about the meeting I told her. What would be said, what would happen, and where; and by the end of it I was pretty confident she truly believed in my abilities. A good thing, as eventually I would be bringing up that I knew the truth of why she was here.

Where I would go from there I still needed to contemplate. I would love to avoid the bloodshed that the Qunari caused, but I wasn't sure how to accomplish that without also delivering Isabela into their hands. It was a problem that should have kept me up that night, however the exhausted twitching of my muscles and the throbbing heat in my temple put me asleep as soon as my body hit the lumpy mattress.

When I awoke the next morning, I noticed my coin purse was accounted for, but the last chapters in the book I was reading had all been ripped out. It was such a petty action, even for him, that it actually made me smile. It's not like I couldn't just ask the author for the ending.


	9. Curb your Enthusiasm

I was laughing. That loud maniacal laugh where everyone knows you've gone crazy. But I couldn't help it. The absurdity of how I was going to die was just too unbelievable. It was a dragon. A real fucking dragon. And it breathed fucking fire.

In honesty, it was a dragonling. The beast was the size of a small moose, covered in dull brown scales, and it didn't come alone. There were two other dragonlings beside it. Their heads were lowered and they hissed at us, occasionally breathing a long streak of fire in warning. They weren't backing down, and neither could we. We needed to press through them and the only thing causing the standoff was that there was more of us than them.

"You're starting to worry me Puzzles," Varric said, his finger tensed around Bianca's trigger.

I glanced at him, laughing still. There were tears starting to form in my eyes and the panic was definitely starting to settle in.

One of the dragons roared.

"Oh fuck," Varric said.

"Incoming," Aldrin shouted.

Carver whooped with joy as the first dragonling charged and Aveline intercepted it. It threw itself against her shield, claws raking against her armor. It's scales were not fully formed yet and so it was not impervious to her weapon and a sideways stab made it screech and back off. One of its siblings in the back breathed another hot stream of fire that we dodged. Aldrin froze the first and Carver quickly severed its head. I had stopped laughing but that was my only accomplishment as I was now paralyzed with fear. My breath was a choked hiccup and I stood with my daggers raised in a pitiful attempt to appear as if I was helping. My companions were on the second dragon now. Carver turning out to be a proficient dragon slayer as his large two-hander cleaved through its shoulder. It screamed and breathed red into his face, but Aldrin's barrier held so Carver twisted his blade down, splitting the creature's belly open. Angered, its sibling jumped onto Carver and pinned him down, jaws clamping tightly around the raised arm to block his face. Blows from Aveline, Varric, and Aldrin all seemed to hit the beast at the same time, but it wasn't enough at this point to deter the desperate creature and it only closed its jaws tighter around Carver's arm, twisting and shaking it. Carver screamed curses and finally Aldrin shoved the bladed end of his staff into the beast's back and then with a final hiccup of flame it collapsed. It took two of us to roll the carcass off Carver.

Varric sucked his breath in at the sight of the wound. "That arm looks pretty bad Junior. You gonna be ok?"

"It's nothing," Carver said with a brave face. "It's gonna take more than that to take me out! Did you see what I did to them?"

"Yeah, we all saw Junior."

"Did you see it Mar?"

I nodded. Carver's arm looked torn. The leather was shredded away and I could see blood dripping down his hand. "You should take a potion for that bite. Or bandage it at least."

"Our potions are very limited," Aldrin interjected, "and I doubt we've seen the last of these creatures. Aveline, can you help him wrap it? I need your help over here Marian."

Carver's hopeful face fell as Aveline started to mother over him. With a helpless shrug I wandered over to Hawke's side. The dragonlings looked much less frightful when they were dead. Varric came to stand beside me.

"The parts will fetch a nice price on the market. We should gather what we can." Aldrin said with a smile at the dwarf before he dug a dagger into the creature's gums and pried a tooth loose. "Why don't we take a dragon each? Teeth and only the hardest scales should do. We should have enough space between us to carry quite a bit."

"So we'll all be dragon a bit between us as we try to claw our way out of this mess, eh?" Varric grinned.

"Haha. You can take that one _way_ over there."

Varric chortled good naturedly and trundled off to the last dragonling. It had been killed over by Aveline and Carver. This left me alone with Aldrin.

"I didn't expect you to be scared. Last time you saw a dragon you looked near to pissing yourself with joy," he commented softly.

It took me a second to remember what he was referring too. "Because I knew that dragon wasn't going to try and eat us," I said, huffing slightly. I didn't like being called out on my fear.

"I do like them better when they're on our side. Too bad about Carver. One more blow and the beast wouldn't have gotten her jaws around him."

The insinuation was clear. Instead of standing there like a paralyzed rabbit I should have been helping. Maybe if I had, Carver wouldn't have suffered. I stabbed my dagger into the dragonling's jaw and began wiggling a tooth out. The teeth were hot to the touch, an echo of the fire breathing through them still. "It was a one time thing. I'll be ready the next time."

"So there are definitely more?"

"Aren't there always," I sighed.

We collected what we could from the caracasses and then struck out deeper into the mine. We encountered more dragonling packs as we ventured and now that the initial shock had worn off I did help fight. Though I'm not sure how much help I truly was. Dragons were hard creatures to flank and more than one tail sent me bowling over. Getting past the tail didn't make it any easier as I had to dodge swipes from their back claws before getting close enough to hit with my daggers. I found myself being trampled more than once under the combo of feet and tails. None of us escaped unscathed from the battles and we were made to use more than one of our precious elfroot potions. We all hated taking the health tonics. They did a great healing job and were absolutely vital on any venture, but they had the most vile taste and were expensive to replace, making them a rare commodity on our freelancer budget.

My seer abilities were providing little help during the battle, but were excellent at locating stranded miners in need of rescuing. More than once I pulled the group off the beaten path to retrieve someone and more than once this led to fighting an extra mob we could have avoided. It wasn't just dragonlings down here, but large cave spiders as well. Still when we defeated the adult dragon and emerged back into daylight, seeing all the extra smiling faces there made it definitely worthwhile. We had saved lives.

Not that the Bone Pit's owner, Hubert seemed to care.

Of course, neither did Aldrin. Carver and I sat back on a bench as Aldrin negotiated prices with Varric's help. Aveline had already returned to the barracks. She wasn't interested in getting paid like we were and had honestly only come along to help out the Fereldan miners.

"So, what are you doing later?'

The question caught me off guard and I looked at Carver in open confusion. He was covered in dirt and blood and there was a definite smell to him. Metal, and sweat, and something wholly primal and Carver. It wasn't entirely distasteful. He rubbed the back of his neck and I saw a small flush of pink go from neck to cheek.

"I was just thinking that we never do anything alone," he continued awkwardly. "Not since I was teaching you how to read anyways and even then we weren't really alone. So I thought a walk or a drink or something. Not because of anything, just was thinking that we spend a lot of time together, but that none of its alone and that maybe we should."

I arched a brow. This boy needed to be saved from himself.

"Maker, what I'm trying to say is," he groaned.

"Carver," I said and he looked up hopefully.

His eyes were blue like his brothers. But where Aldrin's were like cold steel, Carver had eyes like the summer sky. He was cute and it made my heart lurch to realize that because I was starting to think it might be nice for it to be just the two of us sometimes. I looked over at the elder Hawke's back and Carver followed my gaze. When our eyes met again he read the uneasiness in mine.

"I figured," he said scathingly. "He always gets them."

"What?" My voice went higher than I meant it to and I rushed to lower it. "I'm not fucking your brother if that's what you're thinking, Carver. It's just... now isn't the time for anything. Just wait until Aldrin comes back from the Deep Roads expedition. It will be different then."

"My brother? You mean when _we_ come back. I'm going with him."

"Don't," I whispered earnestly.

I saw he meant to argue it, but Aldrin and Varric walked over to us then. The eldest Hawke informed us that he now co-owned the Bone Pit and since our business was concluded for the time in the area we decided to all head home and wash up. We split ways with Varric outside the Hanged man, promising to grab him if we did anything else that day.

We pushed the door upon to open and were immediately greeted by Leandra who quickly roped both of the boys into an argument with their Uncle over their Grandfather's will. A family matter, I excused myself into the side room to wash up. The walls were thin here though, so I still managed to hear everything that was said. Once Gamlen walked out the boys quickly made plans to break into the old estate and they would have gone that very night except for the message that arrived from Aveline moments later. She had a job for us tonight and we were to meet her at the Hanged Man. She promised good pay and at this time promise of coin trumped any family will they wished to recover.

As it always was around this time of day the Hanged Man was a chaotic pit of illicit deals, sleazy taste, and drunken stupor.

Hazy clouds of smoke hung about the perimeter of the pub and the loud din of a talking crowd assaulted us as we entered. We blended in easily enough with the crowd. Armed, dark, and definitely deadly looking, no one paid us any mind as we squeezed through bodies, toppled chairs, and puddles of liquid - which could be either puke, piss, or blood - as we made our way towards Varric's private corner. Two dwarves sat before him, but he dismissed them at our approach. They left sullenly and with quite a bit of side-eye, enough for us to know they weren't friends of Varric.

"Taking tea with the Merchant's guild today?" Aldrin asked with a smirk.

Varric sighed into a stack of paperwork, the end of his quill tapped against his forehead, and he looked more worn than usual. "Tea, death threats, and a large headache. Truth be told Hawke, you aren't the only one looking forward to this expedition changing a few things."

One of the barmaids, a dainty blonde haired thing, had taken a shine to the eldest Hawke. She came by as soon as he was seated with his usual drink. "Messir Hawke," she simpered, "It's been a while since you've paid me a visit."

"It's been a while since he's seen me too dear," Isabella said as she sauntered up. She sent the glowering barmaid a teasing smile before taking a seat across from Aldrin. "I never did get the chance to thank you for helping me with that little problem I had. Surely you'd like to buy me a drink to celebrate our victory?"

Hawke leaned back, studying her. "A victory would have earned me more coin."

"Oh please, you knew what was promised before you went into it, but I do have another job if you're interested. I just need a quick drink to wet my throat before I speak of it."

"A dry whore? No wonder you can't afford your own drinks," the barmaid said snidely. "I can have her removed if she's bothering you Messir."

Varric snorted and I caught his bemused look. It seemed we were in silent agreement that we would both pay to see someone try and throw Isabela out. Aldrin seemed to be considering it as well for a moment, but then he leaned forward and sent a friendly wink at the barmaid. "No, get her that drink. It'll make her offer much sweeter."

"I know that look Rivani," Varric said. "And my room is locked, so take whatever happens between you two somewhere else."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't spoil the memories I made with Bianca there," Isabela replied, causing Carver to visibly gag.

"What's the job?" Aldrin said.

She smiled, leaning forward to meet him across the table, so close their noses almost touched. "I have a friend who needs some help."

"A friend?" Aldrin said with emphasis.

"Jealous?"

"Of what, your flower being picked by someone else? I hardly think that's been a concern of anyone's for quite a long time. Now what can I do for this friend of yours?"

Isabela shrugged and withdrew, letting the barmaid place a less than filled tankard before her. "He didn't say and I didn't ask. But I'm sure you're up for it. His name is Martin. He has a room right here in the Hanged Man."

"Good, let's go now."

"I've just got my drink," Isabela protested with a critical eye. "Some of it anyway."

"It's portable," Aldrin said decisively and took her by the arm.

I watched him haul her off with a few more fake protests and then lay my head flat against the table. The two of them were already closer than I liked. At this rate Isabela would no doubt return when he confronted the Qunari and though the end credits did mention she ultimately escaped her punishment with them I could only imagine the torment she endured until then. I needed some ideas on how to sow a bit of distrust between Isabela and Aldrin to avoid that end. Maybe instead of returning the poison to Martin I could convince him to sell her friend out to the guard? Or, I could convince her that Aldrin had been dropping hints of her whereabouts to Castillon. Either idea required some more thought that I had effort for at the moment. It had been a long trying day already and at the entrance of Aveline into the pub it promised to be even longer still.

It turned out she had a job for Aldrin as well; the next step in uncovering the dirty secret of current Guard Captain Jeven. Unknown to anyone but me, this step also involved saving her future husband, Donnic. It was a quick and easy mission, handled with perfect timing to rescue Donnic in the nick of time and endear him to Aveline immediately. Afterwards, since it was only a few hours away from dawn, Aveline accepted the invitation to sleep at the Hawke's place in Lowtown on the condition that first thing in the morning she and Aldrin would confront the Viscount with the evidence they had against Jeven. It was very comforting to have Aveline in my room again. Leandra and I were on speaking terms, but I couldn't go as far to say that myself and the mother Hawke were friendly. Though I had done right by her sons so far, I was still to blame for her daughter's death.

The next day proved to be no less busy than the prior one. Aveline and Hawke were gone for a large portion of it and news of the Guard Captain being replaced rippled through the town sometime in the late afternoon. Once Hawke rejoined the party we gave him an update on the job we were doing for Martin and reached a group decision to not pay the dockmasters requested bribe and instead just break into the warehouse. We returned shortly after midnight to the Hanged Man to collect our pay and returned home quite a bit heavier with coin.

It had a been a profitable past few weeks and we were very close to the coin amount needed to approach Bartrand as an expedition partner. Varric had a job lined up for us tonight that promised to not only meet that goal, but surpass it by a little and we were all excited for it. It wouldn't mean the last of trivial side jobs we would be taking on, but it would mean everything from there on out would be straight profit and coin to spend on gearing up for the expedition. My excitement dimmed once I heard the details of it though as I put together exactly what tonight would entail.

We had met with the dwarf as planned and gone to the warehouse after. The group was only myself, Varric, Carver, and of course Aldrin. I had thought about persuading him to allow Isabela to come along as well, but considering what I wanted to accomplish tonight had decided against it. She would have served as an active counter to all my points on the matter. Though, her help would have been greatly appreciated during the fight.

I knew the ambush was coming and was able to provide us with a small upper edge because of that, but we were still heavily outmatched and suffered for it. The fight could have been further swayed in our favor if Aldrin had used the full extent of his magical abilities, but since we were in the open streets of the Alienage he was conservative, only using mild tricks and abilities. He used them to protect Varric and I, but not his brother and so Carver suffered the worst of it during the fight, nearly bleeding out from a punctured artery and we had to use one of our precious elfroot potions to stop the bleeding and save him, though he would be limping the rest of the night. I was starting to notice that Carver always suffered in our fights as Aldrin saw him as unnecessary while the rest of our companions, including myself, served some purpose to the sociopathic mage. I made a mental note to stick closer by Carver in the next fight, in hopes to aid him more.

"Don't let your guard down just yet," I said as I wiped my blades off on the nearest dead man's shirt. "Best get a bolt ready, Varric."

"You got it, Puzzles," the dwarf aquised with barely a sideways glance. It had only been about a month, but he was already deeply trustful of my ability.

Aldrin readied himself as well, scowling at the stairwell I had indicated. "This was a set-up from the start. It will not be forgiven."

That was the exact thing I was worried about. The exact reason I needed to prevent this from going any further. I had already made the mistake with Isabela, I couldn't fail another. "Well, you're about to meet the mastermind," I said and pointed at the stairwell.

Unlike the game, where the leader had emerged alone and then had called for backup only to realize his men had all been slaughtered, this version of the captain clearly knew his men were already all dead and had seen the reason for it. He burst down the stairs calling for the mercenary group we had already decimated come to his aid. The look of shock on his face made me pity him for a brief moment.

"Wha-what happened? You shouldn't have been involved!" He cried at us before turning to meet the figure that had followed him down the stairs. "This changes nothing slave. I will retu-"

The line ended in a burst of gurgled blood as a hand emerged from the back of the Captain's chest, blue and ghostly amidst a spray of red. A wave of shock went through my group as the dead men crumpled before his killer's feet..

I already knew who it was going to be, but he was much more intimidating in person. He was superbly tall, Aldrin's height of 6' at least, very lean and wearing some sleeveless outfit that showed off toned biceps, triceps, any and all ceps really. He had shockingly white hair that seemed to drip into his eyes and over his elven ears, sharp facial bones and of course the required all black wardrobe of those belonging to the brooding bad boy club. There was a sheen to his skin that I guessed to be the lyrium tattoos, but otherwise I couldn't tell they were even there; now that they weren't activated.

"I am not a slave," he said to the dead man at his feet before he stepped on and over him to approach us. "I apologize, when I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters I had no idea they'd be so numerous."

Varric leveled Bianca at him, a warning to approach no further. "They were after you then?"

"Correct," the elven man said. "My name is Fenris. These men were Imperial bounty hunters seeking to recover a magister's lost property. Namely myself. They were trying to lure me into the open. Crude as their methods were I could not face the entirety of them alone. Thankfully, Anso choose wisely."

"That seems like a lot of effort to find one slave," Aldrin said. He was looking over Fenris with an inquisitiveness that bordered on predatory. "Does this have something to do with those markings?"

"Yes, I imagine I must look strange to you. I did not receive these markings by choice, even so they have served me well. Without them I would still be a slave."

I could tell Aldrin wished to question Fenris further about the tattoos, but sadly my designed sociopathic Hawke was perceptive enough to know that at this time it would lead to nothing and so changed the direction of the conversation.

Secretly, I had been harboring the hope that Aldrin would come off as bad as any magister to Fenris, but alas it seemed the allure of the mystery markings had already done it's work. Aldrin would be nothing but a complete charm boat to the elf until his curiosity had been sated and I already knew how that ended up for Fenris. I had imagined numerous scenarios and conversations of turning Fenris away from the idea of working with Aldrin, but they all led to the same conclusion; that was, I had full confidence that Hawke would find some way back into the elf's life. I had seen the rivalmance work too many times in too many playthroughs. There was no way of convincing the stubborn elf to just leave the city either. As long as his former master had proven residence in Kirkwall, so would Fenris.

This left just me. And so my master plan to save Fenris was to make him hate me. If I became unbearable for Fenris to be around, then Aldrin would have to choose between the secret of the tattoos or the ability to predict the future. And I was confident I would win that horrible prize.

I spoke before I lost the will too.

"It seems your master has done you a great favor then," I said, cringing at my own words. It's for the greater good I reminded myself.

Fenris's face immediately darkened. "It was not done for me," he seethed. "The pain he put me through...the markings,. Everything was taken from me. I will see him dead for that and all those who stand beside him."

"As would I if he's made you suffer," Aldrin added, jumping in before I could respond. He laid a heavy hand upon my shoulder, pulling me to him. "I am happy to have helped, even if it was just in a small way. You said a Magister had sent them to look for you? I am sure we have some connections we could use to ensure no others come looking for you here."

"That will be unnecessary. There must come a time when you stop running. When you turn and face the tiger," Fenris said.

"And that time is now for you?" Varric questioned.

Fenris knelt to rummage through the dead Captain's pockets. When he stood it was with a letter that he offered out to Aldrin. "It is as I thought. My former master has accompanied them to the city. I know you have questions, but I must confront him before he flees. I will need your help."

"We would be happy to help you," Aldrin said and then looked down at me curiously. "Unless there's any particular reason we shouldn't?"

Because you'll sell him off to his master in exchange for the secret of the lyrium markings, I thought. But of course, I couldn't say what I was really thinking.

"Yeah, there's a reason. Plain and simple: we aren't needed. I've already seen it all play out and he'll be fine without us. It's a useless waste of time to us if we go. We won't even get properly compensated for it. We could make more elsewhere."

"That's where we disagree," the eldest Hawke replied, smooth as silk.

"Well then maybe you should check and see if he would even want the help of a mage anyway," I retorted and despite the desperate urge I had to twist away from Aldrin's grasp I remained where I was. I knew his wrath would only worsen towards me if I tried to escape it. "He thinks they're all power hungry. He views mages like magisters view slaves. Unworthy of life except as property."

"You're a mage?" Fenris said, practically spitting the word at Aldrin's feet. "Perhaps I am better doing this alone."

"Against a magister? You might wish to at least bring me along to warn you of any wards or traps he has prepared," Aldrin countered.

"I have met few in my travels who have sought anything more than personal gain. None of them were mages. What is in it for you?"

"The chance to bring down a mage whose decided to abuse his power," Aldrin answered.

"And coin I hope. Mar is right. We should be getting paid for this," Carver added.

"I will pay you," Fenris said and that seemed to easily settle it for everyone. Aldrin smiled and both Varric and Carver shrugged with pleased agreeal.

"We must not delay any longer," Fenris said.

"I'm not going," I said in one last ditch effort to prevent the events of the night from going further. "It's a waste of our time."

Aldrin shoved me away from him, his blue eyes cold and piercing. "If you don't want to help, go home."

"Alone?" I said, incredulous. "Through the streets at night?"

He come close to me then, pressing down with height and a collected rage that made me feel as if ice had taken root inside me. I knew I had crossed one too many lines tonight. Would he strike me? Was my confidence that he thought he valued my abilities misplaced? Would he hurt me in front of the others? I met his eyes and I knew he saw the fear on my face. I had been so rude to Fenris that I wasn't even sure the others would care if he decided to hurt me here and now.

He did nothing though, but coo sarcastically into my face."You seem to be so full of insight right now, I'm sure you'll make it home just fine."

Straightening abruptly he smiled and strode towards the others. "I apologize for her. When I have more time I will inquire into it, but as you said we should not delay any longer. Are you coming Carver? We need you."

Carver was on the brink, hesitant between refusing to abandon me or taking the offered job. "We can't just leave her. She could be killed trying to get home. Mar, please come. You don't have to help, but at least stay with m-...us."

"This is a time sensitive job. I won't have her dragging her feet on it. If she doesn't want to fully commit to helping, she needs to go," Aldrin said. "I'm not putting her in any danger. She knows how to navigate the streets by now. Tell him you'll be fine. I don't want my brother suffering out of any needless worry over you."

I wanted Carver to come with me. Moreso because I wanted his company tonight than I needed protection. It would actually be safer to travel home without him because then I could hug the shadows or take the high ground, but I also knew that Aldrin was correct. I wasn't in any real danger heading home alone. I was the only seer he had any access or knowledge of at this time, he wasn't about to truly risk me. His brother's safety however, was another matter.

"Aldrin's right. I'll be fine," I said robotically and without taking my eyes off Hawke. "I'll see you back home tonight."

With a final look of concern over his shoulder, Carver accepted my words and moved off with the rest of the group.

I made the return walk home in the shadows and slowly. I had failed tonight. Failed to stop Fenris and Aldrin from meeting. Failed to protect Fenris from Aldrin's interest. Failed even to perhaps keep Carver safe. He was making his interest in me far too public and I was already worried how Aldrin would react to that. He would not like to think that I would choose Carver over his own interests.

I entered the house quietly, not wanting anyone to notice me there either. Gamlen was asleep before the fire. One hand loosely curled around a tankard and the other down the front of his pants as he snored loudly. Leandra was asleep in the chair beside him. I wondered if they both fallen asleep arguing. Ever since the recovery of the family will that had revealed the truth of Leandra's rightful inheritance to the estate Gamlen had sold, things had been tenser than usual at home. Not that I was a stranger to tense situations, especially back at home.

Back home. I hadn't thought of that place in ages. Home, where I had just been a simple barista working my way through college. In love with sitcoms and bad poetry and no cares except for wondering what I wanted to do with my life. Now I was responsible for stopping a monster and saving the lives of several people. And so far I had failed in every attempt. Why was I here if I couldn't do anything to stop him? To save anyone?

Whoever or whatever had brought me here had chosen wrong. I was useless. And I was about to pay for their mistake and mine.

I knew Aldrin would not let tonight go by unaddressed. When or how he would take it out on me I had no idea, but I was confident he would come for me in some regard and not in the usual childish ways that he had been; such as stealing coin or burning book pages. Whatever the punishment ended up being, there was little I could do about it tonight and so I curled into bed with my thoughts of life back on Earth and a subtle wish that I could return to a time and place where my biggest fuck-ups involved bad taste in boys, which I could already tell, would be an ongoing trend here as well.


End file.
